At  the  age   of  six  yt-j 


j^htfUl  it  wiLl  te  to  go  up  to  that  Heaven  ana  see  ' 
nev<ir  clies  " 


:ns>^ 


^'^^?N 


NOV  28  19 


THE 


/^ 


/ 


PERSIAI    FLO  AVER: 


MEMOIR 


JUDITH  GRANT  PERKINS 


OF 


OROOMIAK,  PERSIA. 


"the  flowePw  fadeth."     Isaiah  40:  7. 


BOSTON: 

JOHN    P.    JEWETT    AND    COMPANY 

CLEVELAND,  OHIO  : 

JEWETT,  PROCTOR  AND  WORTHINGTON. 

LOXDOX  :    LOW  AND  COMPANY. 

1853. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by 

JOHN  P.  JE\7ETT  AND  COMPANY, 

in  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE : 

ALLEN     AND     FABNHAM,     PRINTERS. 
EEMINGTON    STREET. 


PREFACE 


The  young  stranger,  to  whom  the  kind  reader  is  intro- 
duced in  this  brief  Memoir,  -will,  it  is  humbly  beheved, 
awaken  more  than  a  passing  interest,  both  from  the  many 
natural  and  acquired  traits  of  loveliness  which  she  possessed, 
and  from  the  circumstances  of  her  birth  and  residence,  as 
well  as  her  sudden  and  sorely  lamented  death,  in  a  far  off 
missionary  land. 

The  beautiful  "  Persian  Flower "  indeed  soon  faded ;  but 
it  was  spared  long  enough,  not  only  to  shed  a  sweet  and 
lasting  fragrance  upon  the  dear  circle  of  missionary  and 
numerous  other  friends  among  whom  it  was  graciously  per- 
mitted to  blossom,  but  also  to  unfold  those  richer  beauties, 
which  shall  bloom,  we  trust,  in  immortal  verdure,  on  the 
"  banks  of  the  river  of  life." 

That  little  Judith,  as  she  will  often  be  designated,  (though 
at  her  death,  she  had  nearly  attained  the  stature  and  matu- 
rity of  womanhood,)  was,  in  the  strongest  sense,  a  very  re- 
markable character,  will  not  be  urged.  Nor  is  it  believed, 
that  the  light  of  her  youthful  example  and  loveliness  would 


VI  PREFACE. 

have  been  in  any  sense  more  sacred  and  valuable,  had  she 
possessed  more  precocious  and  unattainable  endowments. 
But  that  she  was  a  highly  gifted  and  very  amiable,  as  well  as 
dearly  beloved,  child,  will,  I  think,  abundantly  appear  from 
the  following  narrative.  Indeed,  as  is  there  suggested,  Ju- 
dith was  rather  remarkable  for  the  beauty  and  symmetry  of 
her  entire  character,  than  for  the  striking  development  of 
any  one  trait,  or  any  dazzling  peculiarity. 

And  as  this  fair  "  flower  "  may  have  owed  something  of  its 
sweetness  to  the  mild  and  sunny  skies  of  the  balmy  East, 
which  gave  it  existence  —  a  land  to  which  the  lines  of  Bishop 
Heber  would  not  be  unaptly  applied, 

"  Where  every  prospect  pleases. 
And  only  man  is  vile," 

so  will  its  loss,  from  the  family  and  peculiar  circle,  from 
which  it  was  so  suddenly  snatched  away,  awaken  a  deeper 
and  more  melancholy  interest.  Under  any  circumstances, 
we  deeply  mourn  the  premature  "  nippings  of  those  bright 
blossoms ; "  but  the  heart  can  but  be  touched  with  a  more 
tender  sorrow,  when  the  breach  is  made  in  the  family  and  cir- 
cle of  missionaries,  exiled  from  the  society  and  congeniaHties 
of  home  and  kindred,  and  subject  to  the  vicissitudes  and 
trials  of  a  residence  among  a  foreign  people  and  in  a  distant 
clime. 

And  as  none  have  perhaps  been  more  fondly  cherished, 
than  the  few  cultivated,  exemplary,  and  pious  children  of 
missionaries,  who  have  been  providentially  allowed  to  share 
the  fellowship  and  hospitalities  of  the  churches,  so  no  class,  it 


PREFACE.  Vll 

is  believed,  will  be  counted  more  deserving  of  prayerful  re- 
gard and  of  sacred  remembrance,  than  these  precious  exotics, 
reared  as  they  are,  amid  the  corruptions  of  surrounding  un- 
godliness and  depravity.  And  it  is  in  no  small  degree  with 
the  hope  of  contributing  to  a  better  acquaintance,  and  a 
more  lively  sympathy  with  these  dear  offspring  of  the  ser- 
vants of  the  churches,  that  this  sketch,  interesting  peculiarly, 
as  it  will  perhaps  be,  to  the  circle  of  missionary  acquaint- 
ances and  the  numerous  friends  of  our  beloved  and  deeply 
stricken  brother  and  sister,  so  often  previously  bereaved,  is 
given  to  the  public. 

There  is  another  consideration,  which  will  give  peculiar 
interest  to  the  following  sketch.  It  is  the  memoir  of  a  mis- 
sionary child  ;  and  as  such,  gives  a  glimpse  into  the  interior 
of  missionary  life.  The  family  hearth,  the  private  and  social 
endearments,  and  the  every  day  pursuits  and  concerns  of  the 
missionary's  home,  with  which  there  is  a  strong  and  almost 
universal  desire  to  become  acquainted,  are  here  presented, 
as  they  cannot  well  be  in  the  records  of  general  missionary 
labors,  as  they  appear  in  our  periodicals ;  or  in  the  memoirs 
of  the  more  public  services  of  adult  missionaries. 

It  is  believed,  also,  that  the  numerous  notes  of  condolence, 
addressed  to  the  bereaved  parents,  which  are  introduced 
towards  the  close  of  the  volume,  will  be  read  with  deep  in- 
terest-, as  illustrating,  in  an  incidental  but  affecting  manner, 
the  fraternal  relations  and  fellowship  existing  among  mis- 
sionaries of  the  same  and  of  different  missions. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  what  will  doubtless  occur  to  those 
familiar  with  the  productions  of  the  respected  father  of  the 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

deceased,  that  a  large  proportion  of  tlie  matter  has  been  pre-' 
pared  by  him.  The  labor  of  the  writer  of  this  preface  has 
been  trifling  indeed ;  and  he  •would  only  remark  in  conclu- 
sion, that  whatever  aid  he  may  have  furnished,  has  been  most 
heartily  and  spontaneously  given,  as  he  cannot  doubt  will 
also  be,  the  tribute  of  interest  and  sympathy  felt  by  the 
kind  reader. 

It  only  remains  that  we  briefly  state  the  history  of  the  lar- 
ger portrait  which  accompanies  this  memoir.  The  parents 
had  no  likeness  of  the  dear  child  at  the  time  of  her  death,  the 
rude  state  of  the  fine  arts,  in  the  land  of  their  missionary  so- 
journ, rendering  it  difficult  to  obtain  such  mementos.  In 
their  anguish,  after  the  death  of  their  greatly  beloved  daugh- 
ter, with  not  even  the  solace  of  a  likeness  of  her,  one  of  their 
associates  applied  to  H.  A.  Churchill,  Esq*,  a  very  talented 
young  Englishman,  who  had  visited  Judith's  home  about  a 
month  before  her  death,  as  secretary  of  the  British  Commis- 
sion, under  Colonel  Williams,  for  settling  the  boundary  be- 
tween Turkey  and  Persia  ;  who  was  known  to  be  a  remarka- 
bly skilful  artist,  and  was  now  at  Constantinople,  thirteen 
hundred  miles  distant  from  Oroomiah.  Four  months  had 
elapsed,  after  Mr.  Churchill's  very  brief  acquaintance  with 
Judith,  when  the  application  that  he  should  attempt  to  fur- 
nish a  likeness  of  her,  reached  him.  Notwithstanding  the 
difficulties  of  the  undertaking,  he  kindly  and  promptly  ap- 
plied himself  to  the  task  ;  how  modestly,  his  own  language  in 
the  letter  accompanying  the  likeness  may  best  tell :  "  I  have 
tried  to  bring  together  my  faint  ideas  of  poor  Miss  Judith's 
features,  and  I  herewith  forward  to  you  a  sketch,  which,  ac- 


PREFACE.  ix 

cording  to  the  members  of  the  two  commissions,  [the  British 
and  the  Russian,]  looks  very  much  like  the  poor  girl.  You 
conceive  that  it  is  a  very  difficult  thing ;  and  if  you,  -who 
have  seen  more  of  her,  find  that  the  sketch  does  not  in  reality 
resemble  her,  you  will  naturally  excuse  me." 

While  the  portrait,  taken  under  such  peculiar  disadvan- 
tages, bore  a  strong  general  resemblance  to  the  original, 
it  had  some  points  of  dissunilarity,  more  easily  detected,  of 
course,  from  recollection,  by  those  long  and  famiharly  ac- 
quainted with  Judith,  than  by  a  stranger.  In  these  circum- 
stances, Mr.  Stoddard,  one  of  her  parents'  associates,  applied 
his  skilful  hand,  (before  unpractised  on  portraits,)  and  made 
some  slight  modifications  in  Mr.  Churchill's  picture,  the  re- 
sult of  which  was  so  successful,  that  even  the  Nestorians,  who 
were  acquainted  with  Judith,  would  instantly  weep  when 
that  picture  met  their  eyes,  though  uninformed  that  it  was 
intended  as  the  portrait  of  the  loved  departed  one,  except  by 
the  likeness  itself 

A  Missionary  Associate  of  Judith's  Parents. 

Oroomiah^  Persia.,  Jan.  1853. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


INFANCY,   AND  VISIT  TO  AMERICA. 

Judith's  paternal  Grandmother — Quiet  Infancy  —  Land  Journey  — 
Friends  at  Erzroom  —  Voyage  —  Fondness  for  Sea  Life  —  Arrival 
in  America  —  Kind  Reception  —  Her  maternal  Grandfather,  1 


CHAPTER  n. 

RETURN   TO   PERSIA. 

Parting  Avith  Friends  —  Her  desire  to  go  to  her  Eastern  Home  — 
Entertaimnent  on  the  Passage  —  An-ival  at  SmjTna  —  Attachment 
to  Miss  Fisk  —  Arrival  at  Constantinople  —  Land  Journey — Arrival 
at  Oroomiah  —  Mount  Seir  —  Attachment  to  the  Children  of  the 
Mission,  .......  11 


CHAPTER  m. 

HER  EDUCATION  AND  READING. 

Learning  the  Alphabet  — Interest  in  Scripture  Narratives  —  Early 
Religious  Impressions  —  Death  of  a  Sister  —  Prayerfulness  —  Eager- 
ness for  Knowledge  —  Reading  large  Books  —  Affected  by  particular 


XU  CONTENTS. 

Books  —  Memoir  of  Margaret  Davidson  —  Love  of  Nature  —  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin — Deep  interest  in  "  Little  Eva,"       .  .  21 


CHAPTER  IV. 

APTNESS,   TACT,    AND    CAPABILITY. 

Studying  alone  — The  Seraphine  —  Literest  in  Botanj- —  Desire  to 
become  a  Teacher —  Acquisition  of  the  Syriac  Language  —  Sharing 
in  Domestic  Cares  —  Attending  the  Nestorian  Female  Seminary  — 
Desire  for  a  School  —  Notes  to  Miss  Harris,  and  one  from  Miss  H. 
—  A  bereaved  School  —  Anticipation  of  attending  Mount  Holyoke 
Seminary  —  Her  first  Note  —  Elding  on  a  Saddle, .  .  36 


CHAPTER  V. 

HER    COERESPONDENCE. 

Ease  and  Maturity  of  her  Stj-le  —  Note  from  Mrs.  Coan  —  Notes  to 
Mrs.  Coan  —  The  Gawar  Station  —  Her  Last  Note,  .  53 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HER    SOCIAL    CHARACTER. 

Intercourse  Avith  the  Children  and  Families  of  the  Mission  —  Visits 
from  European  Gentlemen  and  Travellers  —  Chevaher  Khanikoff — 
The  English  and  Russian  Commissioners  for  settling  the  Boundary 
—  Missionary  Visitors  —  Letter  from  Anna  Sandreczki  —  Judith's 
Reply  —  Her  AflFection  for  absent  Relatives  and  Friends  —  Her  Gra- 
titude for  Tokens  of  Remembrance  ^-  Reminiscences  of  her  by  Mr. 
Rhea, 71 


CHAPTER  VIL 

RELIGIOUS  INFLUENCES,  AND   INTEREST. 

Notes  addressed  to  her  on  her  Birthdays  —  Notes  from  Mi*.  Rhea  to 
the  Children  of  the  Mission  —  Her  Sabbath  School  —  Committing 


CONTENTS.  XIU 

Hymns  —  Juvenile  Missionary'  Concert  —  Desire  to  become  a  Mis- 
sionary —  Interest  and  efforts  in  tlie  Missionary  Work  —  Nestorian 
Female  Seminary  —  Interest  in  her  departed  Brothers  and  Sisters  — 
"The  Infant's  Call"  — Love  for  the  Saviour  — The  last  Night  of 
her  last  Year  —  Her  last  Pencillings,  ...  86 


CHAPTER  Vm. 

JUDITH'S   LAST  JOURNEY. 

Her  size  and  appearance  at  that  time — Objects  of  the  Journey  — 
Her  desire  to  undertake  it —  First  Stage —  Stop  at  Gavalan  —  Her 
appearance  there  —  Night  passed  at  Khoy  —  Attacked  of  Cholera  — 
The  last  hour's  Ride —  Sickness  —  Inhospitality  of  the  Mohamme- 
dan Villagers —  Her  Calmness,        .  .  -  .  108 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PKOGRESS  OF  THE  DISEASE,  AND  DEATH. 

Medicines  ineflfectual — Looking  to  Chi-ist  —  View  of  the  Saviour  — 
Her  composure  —  Request  to  be  buried  by  her  Sister  —  Henry's  Dis- 
tress —  Clearness  and  activity  of  her  Mind  —  Collapse  —  Spasms  — 
Dreary  aspect  around  —  Her  Submission  and  Resignation  —  Affec- 
tion for  her  Parents  —  Her  Prayer  —  Recollection  of  her  little  Tree 
—  Sj-mptoms  of  wandering  —  Request  to  hear  passages  of  Scripture 
and  Hymns  repeated  —  Restlessness  —  Recognition  of  Henry  — 
Peaceful  exit,  ......         121 


CHAPTER  X. 

RETURN  AND  FUNERAL. 

Henry's  Remarks  —  Recollection  of  Dr.  and  Mi's.  Grant  —  Prepar- 
ing the  Coi-pse  for  the  return —  Parley  with  the  Muleteer  —  Leaving 
the  Village  —  Meeting  the  Russian  Commissioner  —  Reminiscences 
of  Judith  on  the  Road  —  Her  remark  to  Heniy,  the  Sabbath  Evening 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

before  her  Death  —  Note  from  her  Father  to  his  Associates  —  Beach- 
ing Gavalan  — An-ival  of  the  Intelligence  of  her  Sickness  and  Death 
at  Seir  —  Funeral  Services  —  Sorrow  of  the  Nestorians  —  Hpnn  at 
the  Grave, 134 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  DESOLATE   HOME. 

Dependence  of  the  Parents  and  Henry  on  Judith  —  Grateful  Sympa- 
thy—  The  last  Hymn  she  committed  to  Memory  —  Henry's  Dream 
—  Judith's  Intelligence  and  Maturity  — The  silent  Seraphine  — 
Bereavement  felt  by  the  Children  and  Families  of  the  Mission  — 
Caty  Cochran's  Remark  —  Sound  of  the  Seraphine  revived,       147 


CHAPTER  XH. 

NOTES  OF   CONDOLENCE. 

Notes  from  Missionary  Associates  of  Judith's  Parents  —  Notes  from 
Enghsh  Gentlemen— From  Col.  WiUiams— From  the  Messrs. 
Stevens  — From  Mr.  Rassam  — Note  from  Mr.  Rhea  of  Gawar  — 
Note  from  a  Nestorian  Deacon  —  A  Nestorian  namesake  of  Judith 
—  Recollections  of  her  death  gi-ateful  —  Sympathy  of  the  Moham- 
medans —  Of  Prince  Malek  Kasem  Meerza  and  others,        .        155 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

NOTES  OF   CONDOLENCE  CONTINUED. 

Notes  from  Members  of  other  Missions  —  From  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peabody, 
Erzroom  — From  Mr.  Powers,  Trebizond  —  From  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dwight  — From  Mr.  Schauffler  — From  Mr.  HamUn  — From  Mr. 
Benjamin  — From  Mr.  Calhoun,  of  SjTia  — From  Mr.  Schneider,  of 
Aintab  — From  Mr.  Wilhams,  Mosul  —  Remains  of  Nineveh  — 
The  "Communion  of  Saints"  illustrated  in  Missionary  Sympa- 


thy, 


174 


CONTENTS.  XV 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

CONCLUSION. 

Reminiscences  of  Judith  by  a  Nestorian  Girl  — Note  firom  Mr.  Stod- 
dard, written  near  the  place  of  Judith's  Death  —  Letter  from  Mr. 
Stoddard  to  Dr.  Anderson  —  Second  Note  from  Mr.  Stevens  — 
Note  from  Mrs.  Crane  on  her  arrival  at  Oroomiah  —  Note  and 
Stanzas  from  Mrs.  Breath  —  Concluding  Remarks— Poetry  by  Dr. 
Bethune,         .......         204 


M  E  M  0  I  E . 


CHAPTER  I. 

INFANCY,    AND    VISIT    TO    AMERICA. 

Judith  Grant  Perkins,  the  subject  of  this 
memoir,  was  a  very  lovely  Persian  flower.  She 
was  the  daughter  and  fourth  child  of  Rev.  J. 
Perkins,  D.  D.,  and  IVIrs.  C.  B.  Perkins,  the  first 
missionaries  to  the  Nestorian  Christians,  and 
was  born  at  Oroomiah,  Persia,  August  8th, 
1840.  She  united  in  her  name  the  name  of 
her  revered  paternal  grandmother  and  that  of 
Mrs.  Grant,  of  precious  memory,  who  died  at 
Oroomiah  one  year  and  a  half  before  her  birth. 

About  four  years  before  her  death,  a  plate 
from  that  grandmother's  coffin  was  sent  to  her 
missionary  son  in  Persia,  bearing  this  inscrip- 
tion, —  "  Judith  Perkins,  died  January  5th,, 
1848,  aged  78 ;  "  and  under  it  were  three  beau- 
1 


2  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER  ;     OR 

tiful  stanzas  from  the  sweet  and  gifted  pen  of 
Mrs.  Sigourney,  in  her  handwriting,  and  with 
her  signature  ;  also  a  lock  of  the  departed  pil- 
grim's hair.  These  tenderly  interesting  memen- 
toes were  sent  in  a  neat  frame,  which  was  hung 
in  the  parlor  of  little  Judith's  home,  where  it  still 
hangs,  and  where  her  eye  often  rested  fondly  and 
thoughtfully  upon  it. 

As  a  passing  notice  of  that  very  excellent 
grandmother,  and  introductory  to  the  record  of 
the  child  who  bore  her  name  and  shared  her 
^affection,  we  here  introduce  those  three  stanzas 
just  as  they  were  forwarded. 

ON  THE  BEATH  OF  ]\IRS    JUMTH  PERKINS. 

"  The  pilgrim's  piith  was  long  and  lone, 
And  snows  were  o'er  her  temples  strewn, 
Yet  still,  with  courage,  firm  and  high, 
And  meekness  in  her  heaA^en-raised  eye, 
Her  coiirsc  she  kept,  unmarked  by  feai'. 
The  thought  of  home,  her  soul  to  cheer. 
That  promis'd  home,  among  the  blest, 
Where  all  the  weary  hearted  rest. 

"  Though  seeds  of  hallow'd  love  were  sown. 

Along  the  pathAvay  now  so  lone. 

And  tendrils  from  their  roots  had  sprung. 

That  closely  round  her  bosom  clung. 

Content  to  break  those  cherish'd  ties. 

And  listening  for  the  call  to  rise. 

She  oft  inquir'd  with  prayerful  sigh, 
*  How  far  from  home,  Oh  Lord,  am  I  ? ' 


JTIDITH  G.  PERKINS.  3 

"  Life's  last  faint  steps  were  travel-wore, 
And  pangs  of  sharp  disease  she  bore, 
For  night  and  day,  with  tyi'ant  chain, 
The  spoiler  made  each  breath  a  pain ; 
But  on  the  sky,  as  earth  withdrew. 
Her  home's  fair  turrets  brighter  gi'ew, 
While  faith  the  lingering  strife  sustain'd, 
Until  its  glorious  gate  she  gain'd." 

Little  Judith  was  the  only  "  tendril "  from 
Persian  soil  which  that  grand  parent  was  ever 
permitted  to  behold  on  earth.  Several  others  in 
that  far-off  land  had  been  nipped  in  the  bud  by 
the  chills  of  death,  and  transplanted  to  the  celes- 
tial paradise.  But  with  the  most  yearning  ten- 
derness did  the  aged  saint  often  embrace  this 
one,  as  if  in  the  concentration  of  her  love  for 
them  all,  during  a  short  portion  of  the  little  stran- 
ger's sojourn  in  America;  and  most  devoutly 
did  she  often  implore  for  that  tenderly  beloved 
grandchild  the  blessings  of  a  covenant-keeping 
God. 

We  have  called  Judith  a  very  lovely  Persian 
flower.  She  was  such,  emphatically,  through- 
out her  short  life.  The  kind  missionary  sister,* 
who  first  dressed  the  infant,  struck  with  her 
peculiar  loveliness  and  sweet  quiet,  with  a  fond 
kiss,  said  at  that  time,  "  She  means  that  we 
shall  all  love  her  ;  "  a  remark  as  prophetic  of  her 

*  Mrs.  J.  Stocking. 


4  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

subsequent  life  and  character,  as  it  was  descrip- 
tive of  her  appearance  on  the  day  of  her  birth. 

She  was  a  remarkably  quiet  child  during  the 
period  of  her  infancy  ;  yet  happy,  active,  and 
playful,  to  an  extent  equally  remarkable,  greatly 
interesting  all  who  saw  her,  whether  of  the 
members  and  families  of  the  mission,  or  of  the 
Nestorians. 

Little  Judith  had  not  completed  one  year  of 
her  life,  when  the  seriously  impaired  health  of 
her  mother  compelled  her  parents  to  leave  their 
home  and  their  work,  and  seek  a  change,  by  a 
visit  to  America.  Brief  records  of  the  infant's 
journey  and  voyage  are  found  in  the  volume, 
published  by  her  father,  during  that  visit,  entitled 
"  A  Residence  of  Eight  Years  in  Persia."  Of 
the  land  journey,  he  says,  "  there  was  a  humble 
individual  in  our  travelling  company,  whom  I 
have  not  yet  formally  introduced,  and  to  whom, 
as  well  as  to  the  reader,  I  perhaps  owe  an  apo- 
logy. Little  Judith,  our  only  surviving  child, 
was  eleven  months  old,  when  we  left  Oroomiah. 
She  rode  in  a  pannier,  or  deep  basket,  suspend- 
ed by  the  side  of  a  horse,  and  balanced  by  one 
of  a  similar  form  and  dimensions,  on  the  oppo- 
site side.  In  the  latter,  we  carried  a  few  light 
articles,  which  we  needed  during  our  ride,  and 
which  were  thus  readily  accessible.  No  addi- 
tional horse  was  required  for  the  infant,  as  our 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  # 

servant  rode  -apon  the  same  to  keep  the  baskets 
adjusted  to  the  pack-saddle.  The  one  in  which 
the  child  rode  was  partially  lined  with  a  wool 
cushion,  and  had  a  seat  of  the  same  fixed  near 
the  bottom,  with  a  stick  across  in  front  to  con- 
fine her  in  her  place,  while  it  allowed  her  to 
recline  sufficiently  to  sleep.  She  sometimes 
remonstrated  against  being  taken  from  her  warm 
bed,  early  in  the  morning,  and  shut  up  in  her 
moving  prison ;  but  she  would  soon  become 
quiet,  and  usually  fall  asleep,  as  we  moved  on, 
being  lulled  by  the  gentle  motion  of  the  horse 
and  the  music  of  the  bells  ;  or,  if  these  did  not 
suffice,  by  the  shrill  lullaby  of  the  kind  Nesto- 
rian  servant.  In  a  few  instances  the  horse  fell, 
with  his  precious  charge  half  under  him ;  but 
providentially  the  child  was  unharmed  and 
unfrightened,  and  with  the  rest  of  us  safely 
survived  the  journey,  though  performed  amid 
the  famine,  pestilence,  and  sword."  * 

This  extract  sufficiently  illustrates  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  infant  traveller  performed  the 
journey  of  between  six  and  seven  hundred  miles, 
over  the  rugged  and  sublime  mountains  of 
ancient  Pontus  and  Armenia.  Wherever  her 
parents  met  friends,  few  and  far  between,  on 
that  long  and  lonely  journey,  their  infant  daugh- 

*  Residence  of  Eight  Years  in  Persia,  page  477. 


ter  was  an  object  of  attention  and  admiration. 
A  gentleman*  at  Erzroom,  who  had  kindly 
entertained  those  missionaries  a  few  weeks  on 
their  first  adventurous  journey  to  Persia  many 
years  before,  when  he  was  the  only  civilized 
resident  in  that  remote  Turkish  town,  now  met 
the  mother  for  the  first  time  after  that  acquaint- 
ance ;  and  at  the  sight  of  her,  so  changed  from 
the  bloom  of  youth  and  health,  to  the  wan, 
emaciated  appearance  of  a  feeble  invalid,  his 
mind  suddenly  filled  with  the  recollection  of  her 
manifold  sicknesses,  sufferings,  and  bereave- 
ments, during  the  intervening  period,  which 
deeply  affected  him ;  yet  at  that  tender  mo- 
ment, as  his  eye  rested  on  her  infant,  he  could 
not  help  remarking,  "  you  have  a  very  fine  child 
there."  And  the  solitary  missionary  sister,f 
then  residing  at  Erzroom,  in  the  fulness  of  her 
joy  in  welcoming  the  parents,  on  their  arrival, 
in  like  manner  could  not  suppress  the  exclama- 
tion, as  little  Judith  met  her  gaze,  "  Why !  have 
all  the  children  you  have  lost  been'as  lovely  and 
interesting  as  this  one  ? "  Such  expressions 
were  painfully  interesting  to  her  parents,  raising 
in  their  minds  the  apprehension  that  the  lovely 
flower  might  soon  be  transplanted,  as  all  their 
other  children  had  been,  to  a  more  congenial 
clime. 

*  P.  Zohrab,  Esq.  t  Mrs.  Jackson. 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  7 

The  record  of  little  Judith's  voyage  to  Amer- 
ica is  thus  given  in  the  "Residence  of  Eight 
Years  in  Persia,"  from  which  we  have  above 
quoted  the  notice  of  her  land  journey.  "  While 
this  change  from  the  tedium  and  perils  of  our 
long  voyage  to  the  freedom  of  the  shore,  the 
greeting  of  friends  after  om*  long  absence,  and 
the  tender  delights  of  reaching  America,  were 
grateful  to  us  beyond  description,  I  must  except 
one  of  our  number.  Judith,  who  was  thnteen 
months  old  when  we  left  Smyrna,  earned  an 
eulogium  on  the  ocean  as  well  as  on  the  land, 
having  thrived  wonderfully  during  the  whole  of 
our  long  rough  passage,  [of  one  hundred  and  nine 
days,]  and  seeming  to  enjoy  life  at  sea  far  more 
than  anywhere  else.  She  began  to  walk  the 
day  we  embarked,  and  soon  became  able  to  run 
about  the  deck  with  a  nimbleness  that  put  to 
blush  her  fellow  passengers,  and  almost  vied 
with  the  practised  sailors ;  and  she  became  so 
fond  of  the  deck,  that  we  found  it  extremely 
difficult  to  quiet  her  in  the  cabin  during  her 
waking  hours,  and  were  obliged  to  allow  her  a 
free  range  above,  even  when  the  vessel  wa& 
lying  to  in  gales,  if  it  did  not  actually  storm.. 
"Without  any  milk  on  the  passage,  and  living 
only  on  ordinary  passengers'  fare,  she  grew 
rapidly,  and  was  contented  and  happy  to  the 


8  THE    PERSIAN    ELOWER;    OR 

last,  to  an  extent  that  astonished  all  on 
board."  * 

It  may  be  added  that  the  infant  was  weaned 
without  milk,  and  with  the  least  conceivable 
trouble,  during  the  early  part  of  the  passage. 
Her  ceaseless  activity  and  playfulness  soon  won 
the  heart  of  the  kind  and  social  captain,f  who 
made  her  his  little  companion  much  of  the  time. 
In  his  plain,  sailor  style,  he  one  day  said,  play- 
fully, to  the  parents,  "  Judy  ought  to  be  a  hoy^^ 
and  then  she  would  rough  it  to  some  purpose, 
and  traverse  the  whole  world." 

The  sudden  transfer,  on  reaching  New  York, 
from  the  long  and  irksome  imprisonment  on 
shipboard  to  an  elegant  parlor  of  a  hotel,  so 
welcome  to  the  parents,  was  at  last  pathetically 
deplored  by  the  infant  voyager,  who,  taking  her 
stand  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  surveying 
in  turn  each  strange  and  imposing  object  around 
her,  at  length  met  her  own  little  form  in  the 
great  mirror,  and  burst  into  audible  weeping. 

But  little  Judith  soon  found  too  many  kind 
friends  in  America,  even  among  strangers,  to 
allow  her  long  to  pine  for  sea  life.  It  would 
detain  us  too  long  to  attempt  to  mention  all  or 
a  tithe  of  the   acquaintances  which  she   soon 

^  Residence  of  Eight  Years  in  Persia,  page  491. 
t  Captain  Haven,  of  Philadelphia. 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  9 

made,  or  the  attachments  she  soon  formed 
among  those  she  had  never  before  seen ;  or  to 
recount  the  tender  kindness  which  she,  as  well 
as  her  parents,  experienced  at  their  hands.  She 
soon  won  a  large  place  in  the  hearts  of  all  her 
relatives  who  saw  her,  the  survivors  among 
whom,  we  doubt  not,  bitterly  wept,  w^hen  the 
tidings  of  her  early  death  reached  them. 

She  spent  most  of  the  tim.e,  during  her  thir- 
teen months'  sojourn  in  America,  in  company 
with  her  mother,  with  her  maternal  grand  pa- 
rents, in  Middlebury,  Vermont.  To  those  grand 
parents,  she  became  very  tenderly  attached  ;  and 
of  her  grandpapa,  in  particular,  the  late  excel- 
lent Dr.  William  Bass,  who  found  more  time 
than  other  members  of  the  family  to  caress  and 
play  with  her,  she  seemed  ever  to  retain  a  re- 
membrance, though  but  two  and  a  half  years 
old  when  she  left  him.  Often  riding  on  his 
shoulder  to  the  cupboard,  to  take  a  piece  of 
sugar  from  the  bowl  with  her  own  tiny  fingers, 
was  one  of  the  incidents  which  she  ever  after- 
ward associated  with  him.  That  fond  grand- 
papa must  also  have  little  Judith  sit  by  his  side, 
on  her  low  cricket,  while  the  Bible  was  read  at 
family  worship,  and  kneel  by  him,  when  he 
carried  the  family  fervently  and  devoutly  to  the 
throne  of  grace.  Often  did  his  speaking  eye 
glance  upon  the  little  one,  as  she  thus  sat  by  his 


10  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER. 

side,  and  most  earnestly  did  he  commend  her  to 
Israel's  Shepherd,  at  the  mercy  seat.  Her  seri- 
ous, attentive  demeanor,  at  worship,  even  then, 
deeply  interested  and  impressed  him,  and  some- 
times pronrpted  from  him  a  remark  in  regard  to 
it.  Her  father  once  replied  to  such  a  remark, 
"  I  am  very  glad,  sir,  that  you  find  so  much  to 
interest  you,  in  our  little  daughter."  "  O,  I  think 
she  is  a  remarkable  child,"  rejoined  the  venera- 
ble man,  his  voice  choking,  and  the  tears  trick- 
ling down  his  cheeks.  "  Children's  children  are 
the  crown  of  old  men  ;  and  the  glory  of  children 
are  their  fathers." 


CHAPTER  11. 

JUDITH'S   KETURN   TO   PERSIA. 

It  was  with  tenderest  fondness  and  many- 
tears,  that  her  numerous  relatives  and  other 
friends  pressed  little  Judith,  for  the  last  time,  to 
their  bosoms,  and  gave  her  the  last  kiss,  on  the 
eve  of  her  return  to  Persia.  Those  parting 
scenes  made  a  strong  impression  on  the  little 
one.  But  the  inquhy  had  sometimes  come 
from  Persia,  during  that  year,  to  her  parents, 
from  their  beloved  associates  in  the  field,  "  When 
shall  we  see  little  Judith's  sweet  face  again  ?  " 
She  had  also  been  told  of  a  playmate,  about  her 
own  age,  far  beyond  the  ocean,  who  longed  to 
welcome  her  to  her  Eastern  birthplace  ;  and  her 
little  heart  thus  became  interested  and  set  on 
going  to  that  distant  home.  To  the  oft  repeat- 
ed inquiry,  both  in  America  and  on  the  way, 
"  "Where  are  you  going,  Judith  ?  "  she  accord- 
ingly replied,  "  I  am  going  to  Persia,  to  see 
Waller  Holladay."  It  was  with  pleasure,  there- 
fore, and  without  one  painful  regret,  that  she 
now  parted  with  friends  in  the  land  of  her  kin- 
dred. 


12  THE    PERSIAN    flower;    OR 

Her  appearance  was  peculiarly  interesting, 
when  she  re  embarked.  It  is  thus  touchingly 
described  by  Miss  Fisk,  in  writing  to  a  kind 
friend  *  of  Judith,  soon  after  her  death.  "  God 
has  taken  from  us  one,  who  first  met  my  eye, 
having  her  little  hand  held  by  yours,  and  being 
blessed  by  your  kind  heart.  This  was  more 
than  nine  years  ago,  and  when  a  frail  bark  was 
about  to  be  loosed  from  its  moorings,  and  to  bear 
a  lonely  band  of  missionaries  to  far  off  Persia. 
The  little  one  you  so  fondly  pressed  to  your 
bosom  on  that  dreary  March  day  had  not  then 
seen  three  summer's  suns.  The  first  short  year 
of  her  life  was  passed  beneath  Persia's  lovely 
skies ;  and  then  she  was  borne  to  our  father- 
land, to  bloom  there  for  a  short  time,  and  to  win 
the  love  of  grand  parents,  uncles,  aunts,  and 
cousins,  and  hundreds  more.  But  when  you 
gave  her  that  fond  parting  blessing,  her  young 
heart  was  turned  to  her  eastern  home ;  and  I 
remember  with  what  delight  she  pointed  you  to 
the  land  where  her  earliest  playmate  dwelt,  and 
said  she  would  soon  be  there.  Not  the  mother, 
with  restored  health,  nor  the  father,  with  his 
faithful  message  to  the  churches  given,  now 
returning  to  their  loved,  chosen  home ;  nor  we, 
who  for  the  first  time  turned  our  faces  to  this 

=*  Mrs.  William  Reed  of  Marblehead,  Mass. 


JUDITH    G.    PERKIXS.  13 

fair  land,  were  more  happy  to  feel  that  the 
winds  and  the  waves  were  bearing  us  on  their 
way,  than  was  this  little  one,  whose  voyage  of 
life  is  now  ended." 

Little  Judith  contributed  much  to  the  life  and 
enjoyment  of  each  passing  day  among  all  on 
board,  during  the  monotony  of  the  voyage  to 
Smyrna.  The  large  company  embraced,  be- 
sides her  parents,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stoddard,  IVIr. 
and  Mrs.  E.  E.  Bliss,  (of  Trebizond,)  Miss 
Myers,  (now  Mrs.  Wright,)  Miss  Fisk,  and  Mar 
Yohannan.  She  was  now  interested  in  almost 
every  thing  that  interested  the  missionary  pas- 
sengers. If  they,  at  the  hour  of  sunset,  or  any 
other  time,  looked  abroad  upon  the  face  of  the 
mighty  deep,  musing  in  silence  on  its  vast- 
ness  —  the  apt  emblem  of  eternity  —  or  in  social 
relaxation  watched  near  their  vessel  for  fishes, 
she  too  must  be  lifted  up  for  the  same  purpose, 
and  never  tired  of  the  employment. 

When  they,  to  pass  usefully  the  hours  of  the 
day,  read  together  in  the  cabin  or  on  deck,  she 
must  be  with  them,  if  not  to  listen  to  the  read- 
ing, at  least  to  scan  the  pictures  in  some  of  the 
books  thus  read.  Her  particular  favorite  was 
Hitchcock's  Geology,  which  was  one  of  the 
books  read  in  course  by  the  party,  and  to 
which  she  became  so  much  attached,  that  she 
was  at  length  inclined  to  appropriate  it  as  her 


14 

hook^  hardly  being  able  to  loan  it  to  others  long 
enough  for  the  hour's  daily  reading.  It  is  of 
course  not  wonderful  for  a  child  to  admire  pic- 
tures ;  but  the  attachment  of  little  Judith  to 
that  book  was  very  peculiar  and  striking  to 
those  who  observed  it ;  and  the  names  and  forms 
of  some  of  the  minerals  described  in  it,  becoming 
thus  familiar  to  her,  made  so  strong  an  impres- 
sion on  her  mind,  that  collecting  stones,  about 
her  home,  for  her  papa's  cabinet,  on  reaching 
Persia,  was  one  of  her  earliest  and  most  agree- 
able pastimes.  Often  did  she  enter  his  study 
with  her  little  apron  stored  with  pebbles,  and 
with  the  inquiry,  "  papa,  are  not  these  nice 
stones  ?  " 

So  also,  when  the  missionaries  raised  the  spy- 
glass, to  view  the  distant  passing  ship,  or  survey 
the  strange  shores  which  they  approached,  she 
too  must  ever  take  her  turn,  in  looking  at  the  same 
objects.  And  not  the  smiling  Azore  islands  — 
the  first  outlines  of  sable  Africa,  or  Old  Spain  — 
the  towering  rock  of  Gibraltar,  or  its  sister  pillar 
of  Hercules  —  the  smoke  of  burning  Etna  —  nor 
a  single  cape  or  island  of  classic  Greece,  was  of- 
tener  or  more  eagerly,  (though  of  course  more  in- 
telligently,) gazed  upon  by  them,  than  by  this 
infant  voyager. 

On  reaching  Smyrna,  as  the  anchor  struck  the 
bottom  of  the  harbor,  Judith,  still  only  a  little 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  15 

more  than  two  and  a  half  years  old,  leaped  up 
from  the  deck  and  clapped  her  little  hands,  so 
lively  was  her  sympathy  with  her  parents  and  the 
other  missionary  passengers,  in  their  joy  that 
they  had  reached  Asia,  and  so  fully  alive  was 
she,  to  whatever  interested  them. 

She  slept  with  Miss  Fisk  during  the  voyage. 
This  kind  friend  took  particular  care  of  Judith, 
in  the  feeble  health  of  her  mother,  both  on  the 
ocean  and  on  the  land  journey ;  and  how  little 
burdensome  or  irksome  to  her  was  the  charge, 
may  be  inferred  from  her  statement,  that  the 
child  waked  her  but  in  one  instance,  during  the 
whole  rough  passage.  .In  this  early  acquaintance 
with  ]\Iiss  Fisk,  Judith  contracted  an  attachment 
and  regard  for  her,  which  she  ever  afterward  ar- 
dently cherished,  and  which  exerted  much  influ- 
ence on  her  character.  A  trifling  incident  which 
then  occuiTcd,  will  illustrate  the  strength  of  that 
attachment,  as  well  as  the  grateful  disposition  of 
the  child.  Observing  a  small  mole  on  Miss  Fisk's 
face,  in  her  strong  desire  to  be  "  like  aunt  Fide- 
lia "  in  all  things,  she  requested,  and  repeatedly 
importuned,  that  a  "  spot,"  as  she  called  it,  might 
be  made  on  her  own  face,  and  tried  various  little 
expedients  to  produce  one  herself. 

We  may  not  linger  at  the  different  mission  sta- 
tions on  the  way,  and  enter  with  little  Judith  into 
the  joys  of  the  new  acquaintances,  which  she 


16  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

made  at  each  stopping  place,  or  the  reminiscences 
cherished  of  her  there ;  but  must  hasten  onward 
to  her  Persian  home. 

The  swift  steamer  bore  the  missionary  band 
more  quickly  than  "  the  wings  of  the  wind  "  from 
Smyrna  to  Constantinople.  And  the  matchless 
splendors  of  the  great  city  of  Constantine,  as 
viewed  in  approaching  it  from  the  sea  of  Mar- 
mora and  on  entering  the  spacious  harbor  —  its 
lofty  minarets  — massive  and  shining  mosques  — 
gilded  palaces  —  and  innumerable  other  imposing 
objects,  found  so  interested  an  admirer  in  Judith, 
who  pronounced  them  all  churches^  that  not  the 
early  hour,  nor  the  inclement  air  of  the  bleak 
morning  of  their  arrival,  could  confine  her  in  the 
cabin,  after  the  passengers  began  to  sally  forth, 
at  early  dawn,  for  observation. 

On  board  another  swift  steamer,  after  a  stay 
of  three  weeks  at  the  Turkish  capital,  the  mis- 
sionary party  glided  up  the  smiling  Bosphorus, 
and  over  the  frowning  Euxine,  to  Trebizond, 
where  the  little  traveller's  pannier,  or  deep  bas- 
ket, had  found  a  safe  keeping  during  her  visit  to 
America,  with  the  good  missionary  then  residing 
there,  Mr.  Johnston ;  and  there  she  resumed  her 
seat  in  it,  for  the  long  land  journey. 

She  was  by  no  means  an  uninterested  observer 
on  the  land,  as  the  missionary  pilgrims  traversed 
the  sublime  mountains,  the  beautiful  valleys,  and 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  17 

the  vast  plains  —  crossed  the  ancient  river  Araxes, 
and  the  more  venerable  Euphrates,  or  encamped 
hard  by  the  base  of  Mount  Ararat,  on  their  way 
to  Persia.  The  frequent  and  almost  intermina- 
ble caravans,  moving  in  file,  with  measured  step 
and  jingling  bells,  which  they  met  on  the  road, 
also  afforded  high  entertainment  for  Judith. 
When  inclined,  she  would  sleep  as  she  rode,  so 
that,  on  halting,  unlike  the  rest  of  the  company, 
dismounting  from  their  saddles,  often  much  fa- 
tigued at  the  close  of  a  ride  of  thirty  or  forty 
miles,  she  was  never  tired,  and  would  run  and 
play  about  the  tent  during  the  remainder  of  the 
day. 

Arrived,  at  last,  at  her  long  sought  Persian 
home,  little  Judith  seemed  to  share  fully  with  the 
rest,  in  the  general  feelings  of  joy  and  thanksgiv- 
ing. Instead  of  resuming  their  residence  in  the 
city  of  Oroomiah,  her  birthplace,  her  parents  now 
removed  to  the  health-retreat  of  the  mission,  on 
account  of  the  still  feeble  health  of  the  mother. 
This  health-retreat  is  situated  six  miles  south  by 
west  of  the  city,  on  a  gentle  declivity  of  Mount 
Seir,  at  a  Nestorian  village  of  the  same  name, 
which,  in  Persian,  signifies  mount  recreation.  It 
is  thus  designated,  on  account  of  the  agreeable 
attractions  which  it  presents  to  vast  numbers 
who  resort  to  it  for  that  purpose,  from  the  city 
and  villages  below,  particularly  in  the  season  of 
2 


IS  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;     OR 

spring.  This  retreat  is  about  a  thousand  feet 
above  the  city  afid  plain ;  but  the  ascent  to  it  is 
so  gradual,  that  it  is  very  easily  and  pleasantly 
accessible. 

The  air  is  very  salubrious  on  this  mountain 
declivity ;  and  a  large  spring  of  fine  water,  which 
bursts  from  the  ground  just  above  the  mission 
premises,  contributes  to  the  healthfulness  of  that 
residence  hardly  less  than  the  pure  air  itself. 
Magnificent  views  of  splendid  natural  scenery 
stretch  from  it  to  the  distance  of  fifty,  seventy, 
and  a  hundred  or  more  miles,  in  all  directions, 
except  on  the  west,  where  the  beautiful  grassy 
Mount  Seir,  an  isolated  spur  of  the  lofty  Koord- 
ish  ranges  farther  back,  towers  majestically,  yet 
very  gracefully,  about  two  thousand  feet  still 
above  the  mission  premises,  and  three  thousand 
above  the  level  of  the  plain. 

At  this  delightful  health  residence,  the  depart- 
ment of  translation  and  other  labors  in  preparing 
matter  for  the  press  of  the  mission,  is  principally 
conducted  by  Judith's  father,  though  the  printing 
itself  is  done  in  the  city,  under  the  supervision 
of  Mr.  Breath.  Here,  too,  the  Nestorian  male 
seminary  is  situated,  which  is  under  the  care  of 
Messrs.  Stoddard  and  Cochran,  who  also  reside 
at  Seir.  And  hither  the  families  of  the  mission, 
living  in  the  city,  often  resort  temporarily,  espe- 
cially in  the  heat  and  sickliness  of  summer,  for  the 


JUDITH    G.   PERKINS.  19 

preservation  of  their  health,  or  its  restoration 
when  impaired.    This  was  JudithU  Persian  home. 

Being  the  tallest  and  the  eldest  but  one,  at  the 
time  of  her  return  to  Persia,  of  the  juvenile  band 
in  the  mission,  she  immediately  led  the  van  in 
their  play.  She  soon  ardently  loved  all  those 
children,  and  her  affection  was  ever  warmly  re- 
ciprocated by  them.  As  she  grew  older,  she 
would  exercise  an  almost  maternal  care  over  the 
smaller  ones,  treating  them  with  the  utmost  ten- 
derness, and  seeming  to  feel  that  they  were  her 
peculiar  charge.  ,  She  was  always  delighted  with 
the  privilege  of  assisting  their  mammas,  in  taking 
care  of  them  at  their  homes,  and  her  ability,  as 
well  as  her  readiness  to  do  this,  is  seldom  equalled 
in  one  of  her  years. 

Her  attachment  to  the  missionary  children  was 
enduring  as  well  as  ardent.  Her  grief  was  al- 
most inconsolable,  when,  several  years  after  her 
return  to  Persia,  she  heard  of  the  death  of  the 
first  Mrs.  Stoddard,  who  died  of  cholera,  at  Tre- 
bizond,  in  1848,  not  only  in  her  deep  sense  of  the 
loss  sustained  by  all  the  mission,  in  the  removal 
of  that  estimable  friend,  but  because,  as  she  said, 
she  should  "  never  again  see  little  Harriet  and 
Sarah."  She  lived  to  welcome  Harriet  back  to 
Oroomiah,  with  a  joy  long  and  fondly  anticipa- 
ted, and  stronger  than  can  well  be  conceived; 
but  by  an  inscrutable  providence,  as  we  shall  at 


20  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER. 

length  see,  she  was  never  more  permitted  to  greet 
little  Sarah,  (whom  she  had  known  only  as  an 
infant,)  though  in  the  most  lively  expectation  of 
enjoying  that  pleasure  in  the  course  of  a  very  few 
days,  being  on  her  way  to  meet  her  when  she 
died. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HER  EDUCATION,  AXD  READING. 

Judith  commenced  learning  the  alphabet,  with 
her  loved  grandpapa  in  America,  who,  it  hardly 
need  be  stated,  took  gi-eat  delight  in  teaching 
her,  as  she  would  run  to  him  with  the  separate 
letters  on  small  cards,  when  called  for  by  name. 

During  the  first  year  after  her  return  to  Persia, 
Miss  Myers,  (now  Mrs.  Wright,)  resided  wdth 
her  parents,  and  the  little  one  slept  wdth  her. 
Her  affectionate  heart  soon  clung  fondly  to  that 
kind  friend,  who  assisted  her  mamma  in  teaching 
her,  in  beginning  to  read  and  spell.  Her  aptness 
in  imitating,  and  her  strong  desire  to  emulate 
those  whom  she  loved,  appeared  often  in  this 
connection,  in  her  care  to  sleep  straight,  that  she 
might  be  as  tall  as  "  aunt  Kate."  And  it  is  per- 
haps not  too  much  to  suppose,  that  something  of 
the  remarkably  erect  and  graceful  form  which 
marked  her  growth,  may  be  owing  to  her  childish 
efforts,  at  that  time,  to  attain  the  height  of  one 
whom  she  so  much  admired. 

At  an  early  period,  Judith  became  exceedingly 


22  THE   PERSIAN  FLOWER  j     OR 

interested  in  listening  to  Scripture  narratives, 
and  equally  so  in  reading  the  Bible,  when  she  be- 
came able  herself  to  read.  There  being  no  school 
for  the  children  of  the  mission,  her  education 
naturally  devolved  on  her  mamma,  who  faithfully 
instructed  her  in  her  various  studies,  and  espe- 
cially in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  in  which  employ- 
ment both  daughter  and  mother  found  unspeak- 
able pleasure.  The  Bible  was  a  book  of  absorb- 
ing interest  to  her,  and  she  seldom  tired  of  study- 
ing it. 

She  early  manifested  much  tender  religious 
interest,  in  connection  with  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures.  She  has  been  known  to  weep,  long 
and  convulsively,  in  reading  the  narrative  of 
Christ's  betrayal  and  crucifixion,  and  she  could 
hardly  be  quieted  on  such  occasions. 

Judith  was  more  or  less  interested  —  in  some 
instances  very  deeply  so  —  in  each  successive  re- 
vival among  the  Nestorians,  the  first  of  which 
occurred  when  she  was  only  six  years  old.  And 
her  interest  was  much  increased,  in  one  case,  by 
the  death  of  a  little  brother,  and  in  another  case, 
by  the  death  of  a  little  sister,  which  occurred  in 
seasons  of  revival.  Two  of  her  notes,  to  her  kind 
friend.  Miss  Fisk,  written  when  she  was  eight 
years  old,  and  among  her  earliest  attempts  at 
correspondence,  are  here  introduced,  as  referring 
to  the  death  of  that  little  sister. 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  23 

"  Thursday,  Jan.  25t7i,  1849. 
"My  dear  Miss  Fisk,  —  The   Lord   has  in- 
deed come  very  near  to  us,  in  taking  our  darling 
sister.     We  all  loved  her  very  much ;  but  the 
Lord  has  seen  it  best  to  take  her  to  himself. 

"  Please  give  my  mother's  love,  and  my  own, 
to  Mrs.  Stocking,  and  Miss  Rice,  and  the  chil- 
dren. 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"  Judith." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Fisk,  —  You  asked  me  to 
write  you  again,  and  so  I  now  write.  I  was  very 
glad  to  receive  your  kind  note  of  Saturday  eve- 
ninsf.  It  is  true  that  I  loved  sister  Fidelia  most 
dearly,  but  I  hope  that  I  did  not  love  her  too 
much.  You  inqaired,  if  I  love  the  Saviour,  and 
hate  sin.  I  hope  I  do ;  but  we  ought  not  to  have 
false  hopes  about  such  things  as  these. 

"  My  dear  mother,  and  brother  Henry  Marty n, 
and  myself,  all  send  love  to  Mrs.  Stocking,  Miss 
Rice,  and  the  children. 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"  Judith." 

To  this  last  note,  Judith's  mother  added  the 
follov/ing  postscript : 

"  My  dear  Miss  Fisk,  —  Judith  wishes  mam- 


24  THE    PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

ma  to  add  a  postscript  to  the  note,  which  she  has 
written  you  to-day.  Poor  Judith ;  she  seems  to 
be  in  deep  waters  about  her  soul.  She  says,  "  O 
how  I  wish  I  could  see  Miss  Fisk,  to-night! "  I 
tell  her,  the  work  must  be  with  her  and  God 
alone ;  that  she  must  repent  of  all  her  sins  and 
give  herself  to  the  Saviour.  She  seems  much  cast 
down,  and  is,  I  think,  under  strong  conviction  of 
sin.  You  will  all  rernember  this  dear  child  in 
your  prayers.  I  hope  she  may  now  seek  in  ear- 
nest the  salvation  of  her  soul. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  C.  B.  P." 

Judith  often  prayed  wdth  the  pious  old  Nesto- 
rian  nurse,  who  lived  in  the  family,  and  with 
other  Nestorian  females,  with  deep  fervor,  par- 
ticularly in  seasons  of  revival ;  and  she  was  fre- 
quently found  instructing  and  exhorting  them  on 
the  subject  of  their  salvation.  She  was  from  in- 
fancy a  prayerful  child,  though  much  more  so  in 
seasons  of  special  religious  interest  than  at  other 
times.  Writing  to  a  missionary  sister,  in  regard 
to  another  one  who  was  dangerously  ill,  when 
the  child  was  three  and  a  half  years  old,  her 
mother  says,  "  little  Judith  prays  to  God,  every 
day,  with  her  mamma,  that  He  '  would  make 
dear  aunt  Stoddai-d  well  again,  and  that  little 
Harriet  may  not  be  left  without  any  mamma  to 


JUDITH   G.    PERKIXS.  25 

take  care  of  her.'  "     She  was  accustomed,  from 
early  childhood,  to  lead  in  prayer  by  her  mother's 
side,  every  morning  and  evening.     Though  she 
was  ordinarily  one  of  the  most  lively  and  playful 
of  children,  there  was  still  always  a  deep  religious 
vein  in  her  feelings,  which  increased  with  her 
age.     For  several  years,  she  often  took  her  little 
brother,  Henry  Marty n,  away  to  pray  with  her,, 
and  other  children  of  the  mission  occasionally,  as- 
she   had   opportunity.      Soon   after   her   death,, 
Henry  one  day  artlessly  said,  "  Judith  often  used) 
to  tell  me  about  Jesus  Christ's  dying  on  the  cross- 
for  sinners,  and  try  to  make  me  understand  it,, 
when  I  was  a  very  little  boy." 

Judith's  eagerness  for  knowledge,  from  her 
earliest  childhood,  was  remarkable.  Though  the 
Bible  was  unspeakably  interesting  to  her,  and 
the  book  of  books  in  her  estimation,  it  was  by  no- 
means  the  only  book  which  she  early  loved  to 
read.  No  penalty  was  so  severe  to  her,  as  to  be 
required,  for  any  reason,  to  abstain  from  reading.. 
And  probably  few  children  of  her  years  have  readl 
so  many  books,  or  retained  so  much  of  what  they 
read,  as  this  missionary  child.  She  not  only  de-- 
voured  all  the  small  books,  as  "  Peep  of  Day," 
"  Line  upon  Line,"  etc.  and  juvenile  biographies, 
as  "  Nathan  Dickerman,"  "  Mary  Lothrop,"  and 
scores  of  others,  that  she  could  find,  but  she 
would  also  eagerly  grapple  with  large  books,  as. 


26  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;     OR 

the  two  quarto  volumes  of  the  History  of  Mis- 
sions, by  Choules  —  Bingham's  Sandwich  Isl- 
ands, Layard's  Nineveh  and  its  Remains,  Lynch's 
Expedition  to  the  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea,  and 
many  others  of  similar  size,  when  she  was  only 
nine  or  ten  years  old.  A  member  of  the  mission 
has  the  impression,  that  she  read  Mr.  Bingham's 
volume  of  more  than  six  hundred  large  octavo 
pages  —  reading  it  only  as  a  pastime  —  in  twelve 
or  fifteen  days.  He  then  questioned  her  in  re- 
gard to  it,  and  found  her  familiar  with  its  con- 
tents. Her  parents  remarked,  at  the  time,  that 
their  esteemed  friend's  book  could  not  have  had 
more  hearty  admirers  in  America,  than  it  had  in 
little  Judith. 

Most  of  the  numerous  periodicals,  sent  to  the 
station,  found  in  her,  for  several  years  before  her 
•death,  as  constant  and  interested  a  reader,  as  in 
any  adult  member  of  the  mission.  With  the  pa- 
triotism and  eloquence  of  Kossuth  —  the  fugitive 
slave  law  —  the  usurpation  of  the  "  Prince  Pres- 
ident," and  other  passing  topics  of  the  day,  she 
•was  as  familiar  as  most  of  her  seniors. 

Her  memory  was  so  retentive,  that  she  seldom 
forgot  what  she  read.  She  could  quote  the  Bi- 
ble with  great  fluency  and  correctness,  and  rea- 
•dily  give  an  outline  of  other  books,  which  she 
had  perused.  She  had  thus  always  an  appro- 
jpriate  anecdote,  or  illustration,  from  her  reading, 


JUDITH    G.   PERKINS.  27 

for  almost  every  subject  introduced  at  table  or 
elsewhere. 

Growing  up  in  the  venerable  land  of  the 
"  Medes  and  Persians,"  whose  customs,  like  their 
ancient  laws,  "  change  not,"  and  where  almost 
every  incident,  and  indeed  almost  the  entire  rou- 
tine of  every  day  life,  is  a  fresh  and  luminous  ex- 
position of  the  Bible,  she  early  contracted  the 
habit  of  minutely  observing  these  vivid  illustra- 
tions of  Scripture  scenes  and  allusions,  and  took 
great  pleasure  in  tracing  them  out,  even  in  her 
play.  A  short  time  before  her  death,  for  instance, 
at  a  moment  of  recreation  with  a  playmate,  she 
placed  a  small  stone  upon  another,  and  seated 
on  either  side,  they  turned  it  in  the  manner  of 
"  two  women  grinding  "  at  the  oriental  hand  mill. 
A  lady  who  had  just  joined  the  mission,  happen- 
ing to  observe  them,  and  Judith  thinking  that  she 
did  not  comprehend  the  play,  instantly  said,  in 
explanation,  "  two  women  shall  be  grinding  at 
the  mill;  the  one  shall  be  taken  and  the  other 
left."  The  incident  saddened  the  missionary 
sister  at  the  time,  naturally  suggesting,  that  one 
of  the  two  dear  children  might  ere  long  "be 
taken,"  an  apprehension  very  soon  to  be  sorrow- 
fully realized. 

While  Judith's  general  interest  in  reading,  and 
in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  was  such  as  we 
have  stated,  there  were  particular  books  which 


28  THE   PERSIAN   PLOWER  ;    OR 

she  read,  that  made  a  peculiarly  deep  and  lasting 
impression  on  her  mind  and  heart.  One  such 
book  was  the  Memoir  of  Mary  Lothrop,  which 
her  mother  read  to  her  before  she  could  herself 
read,  though  she  must  stand  at  her  elbow,  hold 
the  book  with  one  hand,  and  point  to  the  line 
with  a  finger  of  the  other. 

Another  book  which  very  deeply  and  more  per- 
manently affected  her,  was  the  Memoir  of  Mar- 
garet Davidson,  which  she  read  with  her  mother 
when  about  nine  years  old.     As   some   of  the 
readers  of  this  biography  may  not  be  familiar 
with  that  memoir,  and  as  it  made  so  strong  and 
enduring  an  impression  on  Judith,  we  here  intro- 
duce a  brief  notice  of  the  subject  of  it,  from  the 
graphic  and  truthful  pen  of  the  lamented  Prof. 
B.  B.  Edwards,  D.  D.     "  On  the  25th  November, 
1838,  a  young  lady  died  at  Ballstown,  in  the 
State  of  New  York,  in  the  sixteenth  year  of  her 
age.     She   seemed  hardly  to  be   a  creature   of 
earth,  but  to  have  wandered  here  by  accident, 
from  some  more  blessed  region  than  ours.    There 
were  about  her  a  grace,  a  strange  purity  —  a  sunny 
brightness  —  which  were  not  so  much  geyiius^  as 
mind  in  its  freed  state.     We  have  never  heard 
or  read  of  one  of  human  mould,  who  was  more 
perfectly  divested  of  the  grossness  which  apper- 
tains to  our  condition  here.     Yet  she  possessed 
all  the  innocent  feelings  of  humanity.     Never 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  29 

did  one  pass  a  blither  childhood.  She  had  not  a 
particle  of  that  acid  melancholy  which  is  some- 
times allied  to  genius. 

"  The  first  sentence  which  breaks  from  the  lips 
of  the  unreflecting  reader,  on  rising  from  the  con- 
templation of  her  brief  career,  is,  that  such  a  gift 
is  not  to  be  coveted.  We  should  shrink  from 
having  ought  to  do  with  one  so  etherial.  We 
look  with  fear  and  trembling  on  a  flower  which 
shows  its  delicate  petal  in  February.  Give  us 
the  hardy  plant  that  can  endure  the  early  frost 
and  summer  heat.  Intrust  us  with  the  intellect 
which  has  some  alliance  with  earth,  —  some  fit- 
ness to  its  stern  necessities. 

"  Others  in  perusing  this  volume,  [the  memoir 
of  Margaret,]  will  give  us  a  homily  on  the  impru- 
dence of  parents  and  teachers.  Her  premature 
death,  they  say,  is  a  warning  which  should  not 
be  neglected.  It  shows  the  imminent  hazard  of 
stimulating  the  susceptible  faculties  to  an  intem- 
perate and  fatal  growth. 

'  But  we  are  glad  she  lived  thus  long, 
And  glad  that  she  has  gone  to  rest.' 

Her  course  was  ordered  in  perfect  wisdom. 
May  she  not  have  done  that  which  the  longest 
career  of  usefulness,  as  it  is  commonly  termed, 
fails  to  do  ?  May  she  not  have  had  a  sublimer 
errand  than  others  have?     May  not  her   brief 


30  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

sojourn  throw  some  light  on  the  mystery  of  our 
nature  ?  We  gain  a  vivid  idea  of  a  human  soul. 
The  thick  veil  is  for  a  moment  lifted  up.  She 
had  the  light  and  airy  movement  of  a  winged 
spirit.  We  seem  to  be  gazing  on  the  delicate 
structure  of  a  seraph  ;  and  yet  she  had  the  yearn- 
ing sympathy  of  a  child  of  earth."  * 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  memoir  of  such  a 
young  lady,  by  the  pen  of  Washington  Irving, 
from  materials  furnished  by  the  gifted  mother, 
should  have  taken  a  strong  hold  on  the  interest 
and  feelings  of  one  possessing  the  mind  and  tem- 
perament of  little  Judith.  We  would  not  com- 
pare the  cast  or  compass  of  her  intellect  with 
that  of  the  soaring,  ethereal  Margaret  Davidson  • 
but  it  was  fully  competent  to  feel  the  transcend- 
ent power  and  charms  of  the  character  of  that 
rare  mortal,  even  through  the  medium  of  a 
memoir.  Particularly  did  Judith's  sympathies 
flow  forth  with  hers,  in  her  ardent  admiration  of 
the  beauties  and  sublimities  of  nature.  This 
missionary  child  was  eminently  a  child  of  nature, 
which  appeared  in  her  every  motion.  If  she 
walked  abroad,  over  the  hills  around  her  home, 
she  must  always  run  and  leap^  in  unison  with  the 
sporting  lambs,  or  gurgling  cascades.    She  must 


*  Address  delivered  at  the  fourth  anniversary  of  the  Mount 
Holyoke  Female  Seminary,  July  29th,  1841. 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  31 

dip  and  drink  water  right  from  the  sparkling 
fount  of  the  crystal  spring ;  bathe  her  head  in  the 
cool  stream  below,  and  "spatter"  briskly  there 
with  her  playmates.  She  passionately  loved  to 
bask  in  the  genial  sun,  and  inhale  the  pure  fresh 
air,  under  the  open  sky,  unencumbered  by  veil, 
hood,  or  bonnet.  This  general  love  of  nature, 
which  was  strongly  innate  in  her,  was  very  per- 
ceptibly quickened  by  the  perusal  of  that  memoir. 

From  that  time,  the  starry  heavens,  so  bright 
and  glorious  in  Persia,  presented  new  attractions 
to  Judith.  In  this  land  of  ancient  "  star-gazers," 
and  from  the  clearness  of  its  atmosphere,  of  all 
others  naturally  the  most  favorable  to  the  culti- 
vation of  the  sublime  science  of  astronomy,  and 
where  a  member  *  of  the  Nestorian  mission  has 
solved  the  long  disputed  problem  of  Jupiter's 
moons  being  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  she  often 
lingered  on  the  flat  roof  of  her  home,  sometimes 
alone,  and  sometimes  with  her  mother  or  little 
brother,  till  the  last  glimmering  of  twilight  had 
long  disappeared,  fondly  surveying  "  the  hosts  of 
heaven,"  many  of  .which  she  could  call  by  name  ; 
her  thoughts  most  vividly  associating  with  them, 
the  majesty  and  glory  of  their  great  creator.. 

And  the  vast  panorama  of  beauty,  grandeur,, 
and  sublimity  of  the  terrestrial  scenery,  that  al— 

*  Eev.  David  T.  Stoddard. 


32 


ways  met  her  eye,  from  her  mountain  home, — the 
city  directly  below  —  the  great  plain  beyond,  and 
on  either  hand,  dotted  with  almost  countless  ver- 
dant and  smiling  villages  —  and  the  placid  lake, 
bounding  the  plain,  and  like  an  extended  mirror, 
reflecting  the  effulgence  of  the  brilliant  Persian 
sun  —  and,  farther  still,  the  towering  ranges  of 
mountains,  rising  in  the  blue  distance  and  blend- 
ing with  the  sky,  —  this  whole  scene,  rarely  sur- 
passed or  equalled  in  the  wide  world,  now  pos- 
sessed new  charms  in  her  view,  and  she  daily 
gazed  on  it  with  unutterable  emotions  of  enjoy- 
ment. 

From  this  time,  too,  she  listened  with  new 
interest  to  "the  fowls  of  heaven,"  "which  sing 
among  the  branches."  In  this  Eastern  land, 
where  all  nature  is  peculiarly  instinct  with  life, 
and  almost  every  department  of  it  presents  a 
-strikingly  luxuriant  development ;  the  birds  are 
remarkable  for  the  richness  and  beauty  of  their 
plumage,  and  the  fulness  and  sweetness  of  their 
inotes.  A  few  species  of  these  winged  songsters 
<  congregate  regularly,  in  immense  numbers,  at 
(early  morn  and  at  twilight,  in  the  clusters  of 
-.trees  around  Judith's  home,  and  mofet  melo- 
diously warble  forth  their  choral  matins  and 
vespers,  besides  more  irregular  chants  at  all  hours 
of  the  day.  In  her  they  ever  found  an  enrap- 
tured listener  and  admirer,  but  particularly  after 
!  her  perusal  of  the  memoir  in  question. 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS.  33 

And  from  this  time,  also,  her  love  of  flowers, 
which  had  always  been  quite  strong,  was  greatly- 
increased.  Her  little  flower-garden  was  now 
more  carefully  cultivated ;  and  the  whole  moun- 
tain around  her  home  —  itself  in  spring  like  one 
immense  flower-garden,  smiling  in  bright  colors 
and  redolent  with  sweet  fragrance,  where  a  thou- 
sand hives  of  bees  annually  revel  and  amass  their 
luscious  stores  —  now  presented  new  charms,  and 
more  strongly  than  ever  tempted  her  forth  in  fre- 
quent rambles,  for  specimens  to  press  for  preser- 
vation. About  this  time,  she  prepared  a  collec- 
tion of  pressed  flowers  and  sent  them  to  a  cousin, 
in  America. 

Another  immediate  effect  of  her  reading  that 
memoir,  was  a  quickened  taste  and  relish  for 
poetry,  —  the  portions  of  Margaret's  poetry,  con- 
tained in  the  memoir,  having  deeply  interested 
her.  Mrs.  Sigourney,  who  had  sent  several  small 
volumes  of  her  writings  to  Judith  and  her  parents^ 
now  became  her  favorite  author.  She  read  and 
re-read  those  books  with  her  mother,  as  also 
other  poetry,  with  most  engrossing  and  ever  in- 
creasing interest. 

One  of  the  last  books  which  Judith  read  in 
course  —  and  read  aloud  to  her  mother  —  was 
"  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  kindly  sent  to  her  father 
by  a  friend  in  America  —  one  of  the  gentlemanly 
publishers  —  a  short  time  before  her  death.  It  la 
3 


34  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

certainly  not  strange,  that  the  whole  of  that  won- 
derful book  broke  up  the  deep  fountains  of  her 
feeling  soul.  But  little  Eva  was  the  character  in 
it,  which  most  deeply  interested  Judith.  Indeed, 
her  heart  seemed  like  melted  wax,  while  reading 
that  thrilling  sketch,  and  to  receive  from  it,  as 
from  a  seal,  a  full  and  perfect  impression.  She 
longed  to  be  like  Eva,  and  to  be  with  her.  And 
as  Providence  ordered,  it  would  almost  seem,  that 
that  seraphic  character  was  presented  to  her,  just 
at  that  time,  as  a  beckoning  angel,  to  invite  her 
to  her  celestial  home.  The  congeniality  of 
Judith's  spirit  and  character  with  Eva's,  was 
more  than  imaginary,  and  obvious  to  the  general 
observer.  Mr.  Stevens,  British  consul  in  Persia, 
while  reading  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  lent  to  him 
by  Judith's  father  a  short  time  after  her  death  — 
and  in  his  own  language,  reading  it  "  with  greater 
interest  and  more  pain  "  than  he  ever  read  any 
other  book  —  remarked  as  follows  :  "  A  wonder- 
fully interesting  character  is  that  Evangelina. 
There  was  a  great  deal  in  her  that  strongly  re- 
minds me  of  poor  Judith." 

The  perusal  of  that  affecting  sketch  exerted  a 
very  salutary  influence  on  Judith's  mind,  in  turn- 
ing her  thoughts  vividly  toward  the  subject  of 
death  and  heaven,  as  presented  in  Eva's  history. 
And  of  all  the  myriads  who  have  wept  over  that 
sketch,  few  probably  have  more  fully  sympathized 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  35 

with  the  spirit  of  the  following  admired  stanzas 
by  Whittier,  than  could  the  youthful  subject  of 
this  memoir. 

"  Dry  tears  for  holy  Era  ; 
With  the  blessed  angels  leave  her. 
Of  the  fonn  so  sweet  and  fair. 
Give  to  earth  the  tender  care. 
For  the  golden  locks  of  Eva, 
Let  the  sunny  south  land  give  her 
Flower  pillow  of  repose. 
Orange  bloom  and  budding  rose. 

"  All  is  light  and  peace  with  Eva ; 
There  the  darkness  cometh  never  ; 
Tears  are  wiped  and  fetters  fall. 
And  the  Lord  is  all  in  all. 
Weep  no  more  for  happy  Eva ; 
Wrong  and  sin  no  more  shall  grieve  her ; 
Care  and  pain  and  weariness 
Lost  in  love  so  measureless. 

"  Gentle  Eva  —  loving  Eva — 
Child  confessor  —  true  believer ; 
Listener  at  the  Saviour's  knee, 
*  Suffer  such  to  come  to  me.* 
O  for  faith  like  thine,  sweet  Eva ; 
Lighting  all  the  solemn  river. 
And  the  blessing  of  the  poor. 
Wafting  to  the  heavenly  shore." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HER  APTNESS,  AND   CAPABILITY. 

Judith's  education,  it  shonld  be  borne  in  mind, 
was   conducted  by  her  mother  ahiaost  entirely 
alone^  without   any  of  the   incitements  of  the 
school-room  and  class-mates,  to  awaken  and  sus- 
tain an  interest  in  her  studies.     Few  indeed  are 
the  children,  who  would  have  progressed  as  she 
did,   in   such   circumstances.     She  was   kindly 
taught,  a  few  weeks,  with  other  children  of  the 
mission,  by  Misses  Fisk  and  Rice,  in  connection 
with  the  Nestorian  girls  of  their  seminary ;  and 
a  few  weeks  more,  in  two  instances,  by  Mrs. 
Coan.    "With  these  exceptions,  she  was  instructed 
solitarily  by  her  mamma,  until  two  months  before 
her  death.    Yet  she  was  never  listless  in  learning 
or  reciting  her  lessons  ;  but  ever  engaged  in  them, 
with  an  interest,  enthusiasm,  and  success,  which 
often  alike  surprised  and  chided  her  teacher,  who, 
while  the  task  of  instructing  her  was  a  very  de- 
lightful one,  was  sometimes  so  much  occupied 
with  domestic  cares,  that  she  found  it  difficult  to 
redeem  the  time  which  her  beloved  pupil  required 
and  richly  deserved. 


THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER.  37 

Judith's  aptness  and  capability  in  study,  were 
equally  conspicuous  in  other  things.  When  she 
was  ten  years  old,  her  father  received  a  seraphine, 
which  was  sent  to  him  as  a  present,  by  a  kind 
friend  *  in  America,  to  be  kept  and  used  in  his 
family,  for  the  special  benefit  of  the  male  semi- 
nary. At  her  tender  age,  she  soon  commenced 
using  the  instrument,  and  with  a  rapidity  that 
astonished  all  who  witnessed  her  progress,  she 
became  able,  in  a  short  time,  to  play  beautifully 
at  religious  worship,  with  fewer  hours  of  instruc- 
tion from  her  early  friend,  Mrs.  Wright,  than  she 
was  herself  years  old.  And  many  evenings  have 
the  forty  pupils  of  the  male  seminary  assembled, 
in  a  large  room  at  her  home,  to  sing  the  songs  of 
Zion,  led  on  by  her  as  by  a  little  seraph,  playing 
charmingly  on  that  sweet  instrument.  The 
evenings,  thus  spent,  were  seasons  of  high  enjoy- 
ment to  her,  not  only  as  a  lover  of  music,  but 
from  the  delight  which  she  felt,  in  imparting  grati- 
fication and  improvement  to  those  young  Nesto- 
rians,  who  were  to  become  teachers  and  preachers 
among  their  people. 

The  twilight  of  Sabbath  evening,  which  she 
divided  between  the  instrument  and  walking  on 
the  terrace,  was  her  favorite  season  for  using  the 
seraphine  in  sacred  music.     In  concert  with  her 

*  Luke  Sweetser,  Esq.,  of  Amherst,  Mass. 


38 

parents  and  little  brother,  several  sweet  hymns 
were  played  and  sung  by  her,  at  that  hallowed 
hour.  Her  last  piece,  on  the  last  Sabbath  even- 
ing of  her  life  —  and  indeed  the  last  piece  that 
she  ever  played  —  was  the  following  familiar 
hymn :  — 

"  Jerusalem,  my  glorious  home, 
Name  ever  dear  to  me  ; 
When  shall  my  labors  hare  an  end, 
In  joy  and  peace  in  thee  1 

"  O  when,  thou  city  of  my  God, 
Shall  I  thy  courts  ascend. 
Where  congregations  ne'er  break  up. 
And  sabbaths  have  no  end  1 

"  There  happier  bowers  than  Eden's  bloom ; 
No  sin  nor  sorrow  know. 
Blest  seats  !  through  rude  and  stormy  scenes 
I  onward  press  to  you. 

"  Why  should  I  shrink  at  pain  or  woe  1 
Or  feel  at  death  dismay  ? 
I've  Canaan's  goodly  land  in  view. 
And  realms  of  endless  day." 

Those  were  very  happy  Sabbath  hours  to 
Judith,  here  on  earth,  but  were  doubtless  the  pre- 
lude to  infinitely  happier  ones,  now  enjoyed  by 
her  in  heaven. 

Her  proficiency,  in  learning  to  play  on  the 
seraphine,  almost  uninstructed,  is  but  an  illustra- 
tion of  her  tact  and  success,  in  accomplishing 


JUDITH    G.    PERKIXS.  39 

almost  any  thing  to  which  she  turned  her  atten- 
tion, and  in  which  she  was  interested.  During 
the  last  spring  of  her  life,  Mrs.  Stoddard  kindly 
gave  her,  and  some  of  her  playmates,  a  few  les- 
sons in  botany^  to  which  she  had  never  before  at- 
tended. She  eagerly  engaged  in  this  study.  It 
opened  a  new  and  delightful  range  to  her 
thoughts,  leading  her  systematically  into  new 
mysteries  of  nature,  (of  which,  in  its  various 
departments,  as  we  have  stated,  she  was  a  very 
ardent  admirer,)  and  through  nature  up  to 
nature's  God.  Mrs.  Stoddard's  lessons  were 
daily  and  minutely  repeated  by  Judith  to  her 
mamma,  with  characteristic  accuracy  and  enthu- 
siasm. 

About  a  year  before  her  death,  she  read  a  little 
book,  entitled  "Jane  Hudson,"  which  awakened 
in  her  a  desire  and  an  ambition  to  become  a 
"  school  teacher,"  or  rather,  quickened  that  desire, 
which  had  long  existed  in  her  bosom.  And  she 
embraced  the  earliest  opportunity,  afterward,  of 
a  visit  of  Mrs.  Stocking  and  her  children,  a  few 
days  on  Mount  Seir,  to  gather  her  playmates, 
several  hours  a  day,  in  the  capacity  of  a  school, 
her  ideas  of  which  she  had  received  from  the 
Nestorian  Female  Seminary.  Day  after  day, 
the  children  assembled  and  spent  a  few  hours  in 
study  and  recitation,  under  Judith's  tuition,  with 
perfect  order,  stillness,  and  propriety.     On   the 


40  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

last  day  of  the  visit,  the  parents  were  invited  by 
her  to  an  examination.  They  attended,  and  were 
exceedingly  gratified  and  entertained,  by  the  ex- 
hibition of  those  children  —  even  to  declamation 
by  the  little  boys  —  for  which  they  had  prepared 
themselves  the  few  previous  days,  under  the 
superintendence  of  their  juvenile  teacher  between 
ten  and  eleven  years  old.  To  the  inquiry  ad- 
dressed to  her  little  brother,  since  her  death, 
"  How  did  Judith  keep  her  scholars  in  such 
order  ?  "  he  replied,  "  She  used  to  tell  them,  that, 
if  they  were  good  children,  she  would  pin  a  cer- 
tificate of  their  good  behaviour  on  their  shoul- 
ders, to  wear  home." 

The  modern  Syriac  language,  which  Judith 
spoke  with  much  fluency,  she  learned  to  read 
without  the  assistance  of  any  regular  teacher, 
and  apparently  almost  wholly  unaided.  Her 
desire  to  read  "  The  Rays  of  Light,"  the  monthly 
Nestorian  periodical,  as  also  to  be  able  to  teach 
Nestorian  females,  seemed  to  be  the  particular 
motive  that  prompted  her  thus  to  learn  to  read 
i;hat  language. 

Her  aptness  and  maturity  were  also  con- 
ispicuous,  in  the  cares  of  the  family.  In  the  fee- 
ble health  of  her  mother,  she  shared  largely  in 
those  cares,  and  in  some  instances,  they  devolved 
■on  Judith  for  days  at  a  time.  In  the  absence  of 
other  help,  a  few  months  before  her  death,  she 


JUDITH    G.   PERKIXS.  41 

made  the  bread  for  the  family,  several  weeks  in 
succession.  Her  success,  in  domestic  cares  and 
labors,  were  equalled  only  by  the  interest  and 
delight  with  which  she  engaged  in  them. 

On  this  general  subject,  jMr.  Cochran,  who 
resides  in  the  same  yard  with  Judith's  parents, 
bears  the  following  testimony.  "  Having  had 
daily  opportunities,  for  several  years,  of  observing 
her  womanly  desire  to  make  herself  useful  in 
every  sphere,  and  having  habitually  witnessed 
her  untiring  and  very  welcome  offices  of  kind- 
ness, in  my  own  family,  both  by  day  and  by 
night,  in  times  of  sickness,  —  and  her  very 
matronly  superintendence  of  my  little  children, 
and  fruitful  devices  to  contribute  to  their  amuse- 
ment and  happiness,  —  her  prompt  attendance  in 
leading  them  to  the  Sabbath  school,  and  her  in- 
variable eagerness  to  accompany  them  to  their 
home,  in  adjoining  apartments  to  her  own,  and 
to  their  nursery,  to  consummate  the  labors  of  her 
self-assumed  charge,  after  an  evening  meeting  or 
a  social  interview.  I  feel  that  too  much  can 
hardly  be  said,  in  deserved  praise  of  the  skill  of 
her  youthful  hands,^  or  the  benevolence  and  kind- 
ness of  her  heart." 

While  studying  in  connection  with  the  Nesto- 
rian  Female  Seminary,  a  short  time,  as  already 
mentioned,  Judith  was  kindly  boarded  by  JVIr. 
and  Mrs.  Coan,  of  Gawar,  who  then  resided  in 


42  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER  ;    OR 

the  city  of  Oroomiah.  Mr.  Coan  thus  speaks  of 
her,  ill  a  letter  to  her  parents,  after  her  death. 
"  We  take  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  recalling  the 
time  when  Judith  was  a  member  of  our  family 
at  Oroomiah,  the  few  weeks  she  attended  the 
school  of  Misses  Fisk  and  Kice.  Although  then 
but  ten  years  old,  she  had  a  womanly  bearing 
and  dignity,  w^hich  are  not  often  found  in  those 
of  riper  years.  Her  care  for  Henry,  who  took  his 
dinners  with  us,  but  went  home  at  night,  was 
truly  motherly.  Her  anxiety  lest  she  should  give 
us  trouble,  and  her  desire  to  render  herself  useful, 
showed  a  thoughtfulness  and  regard  for  the  com- 
fort of  others,  of  which  many  would-be-polite 
know  little. 

"  While  with  us,  she  was  very  diligent  in  her 
studies,  often  begging  us  to  remain  up  a  little 
longer,  evenings,  than  we  thought  best  for  her. 

"  During  our  short  acquaintance  with  her  at 
that  time,  I  was  surprised  and  delighted  to  find 
her  mind,  young  as  she  was,  stored  with  so  much 
and  so  varied  reading.  But  her  improvement  in 
mind  and  manners,  and  in  general  intelligence, 
appeared  very  striking  in  my  visit  to  you  last 
spring,  after  an  absence  of  six  months  in  Gawar ; 
and  her  quiet,  subdued,  yet  cheerful  spirit,  her 
apparent  interest  and  delight  in  spiritual  conver- 
sation, and  her  tenderness  and  concern  for  her 
soul,  manifested  in  a  short  conversation  I  then 


JUDITH   G.  PERKIX3.  43 

had  with  her,  led  me  to  hope,  that  gi'ace  had  be- 
gun a  good  work  in  her  heart,  and  I  trust  that 
her  Saviour  was  even  then  sanctifying  her  for 
himself,  and  preparing  her  for  the  great  change 
which  awaited  her. 

"  But  why  should  I  dwell  on  the  many  pleas- 
ing traits  of  your  beloved  Judith  ?  You  know 
them  all ;  and  yet  I  may  not  be  deprived  of  the 
privilege  of  expressing  to  you  my  condolence, 
and  assuring  you  that  we  too  loved  Judith,  and 
with  you  feel  her  loss." 

Successful  as  Judith  had  been  in  prosecuting 
her  studies  alone^  under  her  mother's  instruction, 
with  the  brief  exceptions  we  have  mentioned,  it 
had  long  been  her  ardent  desire  to  enjoy  the  pri- 
vileges of  a  school;  and  her  young  heart  leaped 
with  ecstasy,  in  the  definite  and  near  prospect  of 
welcoming  a  teacher,  when  she  heard  that  Miss 
Harris  had  been  designated  to  instruct  the  child- 
ren of  the  mission,  in  connection  with  other  mis- 
sionary labors.  The  following  notes,  addressed 
by  Judith  to  Miss  Harris,  while  on  her  way  to 
Oroomiah,  will  show  the  interest  of  the  child  on 
this  subject. 

"  Oroomiah,  Oct.  IGtJi,  1851. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Harris,  —  I  am  very  happy 
to  have  the  opportunity  of  addressing  one,  whom 
I  hope  soon  to  call,  teacher.     We  are  all  very 


44  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

happy  to  learn,  that  we  shall  so  soon  have  a 
teacher.  We  once  had  a  little  school,  taught  by- 
Mrs.  Coan,  in  the  school-room  where  we  hope  to 
spend  so  many  happy  hours  with  you.  Our 
present  teacher  is  mamma. 

"  Mamma  and  papa  and  brother  Henry  unite 
with  me  in  much  love  to  you.  Please  accept 
this  from  your  affectionate  friend, 

"Judith  G.  Perkins." 

The  foregoing  note  reached  Miss  Harris  at 
Smyrna.  The  following  is  her  reply  to  it  and  to 
other  notes  which  she  received  from  the  children 
at  Oroomiah.  It  was  written,  as  will  be  per- 
ceived, after  her  arrival  at  Constantinople. 

"  Constantinople,  March  1st,  1852. 

"  My  dear  Judith,  Harriet,  Lucy,  Jerusha, 
William,  and  all  the  children  of  Oroomiah, — 
Your  kind  notes  of  October  were  received  a  few 
days  since.  You  can  imagine  the  joy  they  gave 
me,  after  my  long  passage.  I  soon  felt  that  I 
was  almost  acquainted  with  you,  and  that  I 
should  soon  feel  at  home  in  Oroomiah;  for  I 
trust,  that  before  many  months,  I  shall  be  with 
you. 

"  Until  I  can  cross  the  mountains,  I  am  to  re- 
main in  Bebek,  and  teach  the  children  of  the  fam- 
ilies here.     They  had  expected  me  to  have  been 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  45 

with  them  all  winter ;  but  my  winter  has  been 
spent  upon  the  ocean,  and  I  did  not  arrive  at 
Constantinople  until  almost  spring.  But  now 
that  I  am  no  longer  to  be  carried  forward  by- 
wind  and  tide,  I  hope  there  will  be  no  disappoint- 
ment about  my  reaching  Oroomiah. 

"  I  am  not  only  interested  in  those  who  are  to 
be  my  pupils,  but  in  the  account  of  your  school- 
room, etc.  I  am  now  teaching  in  quite  a  small 
room,  and  for  this  reason,  not  able  to  receive 
several  English  scholars  who  wish  to  come.  In 
Pera  and  Bebek  together,  there  are  now  twenty- 
two  missionary  children  ;  but  it  is  seldom  that 
they  can  all  be  in  school  at  the  same  time.  Mrs. 
Hinsdale  has  a  very  pleasant  school  in  Pera. 
And  before  I  came  here,  Mrs.  Shauffler  taught 
her  four  boys,  and  Miss  Lovell  the  girls  in  Be- 
bek. 

"  While  I  remain  here,  I  shall  be  happy  to  hear 
from  you ;  and  when  the  snow  shall  have  melted 
from  the  mountains,  I  hope  to  be  with  you,  to 
receive  the  welcome  you  so  kindly  offer  me.  Till 
then,  may  God  bless  you  and  me,  and  I  pray 
you  accept  much  love, 

"  From  your  affectionate  friend, 

"  Martha  A.  Harris." 

The  following  is  a  second  note  from  Judith  to 
Miss  Harris. 


46  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

"  OroomiaJi,  April  SOtJi,  1852. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Harris, —  I  thank  you  very 
much  for  your  kind  and  welcome  note.  It  seems 
as  though  I  coukl  hardly  realize,  that  you  are  at 
Constantinople,  so  near  us,  and  that  so  soon,  we 
are  to  have  the  pleasure  of  welcoming  you  to  our 
Persian  home. 

"  When  I  last  wrote  you,  there  were  but  thir- 
teen children  in  the  mission,  besides  the  three 
who  came  here  to  be  educated ;  but  now,  as  Dr. 
Wright  has  a  little  son  about  three  months  old, 
John  Henry,  there  are  fourteen,  and  the  other 
three  make  seventeen.  Only  eleven  are  old 
enough  to  go  to  school. 

"  Mrs.  Stoddard  has  a  class  in  botany.  We 
think  it  a  very  pleasant  study.  There  are  some 
very  pretty  flowers  that  grow  wild  here.  We 
also  have  a  Sabbath  school.  Mrs.  Stoddard  is 
our  teacher.  We  enjoy  it  very  much.  We  also 
meet  together  once  in  two  months,  (as  we  are 
not  able  to  get  together  oftener,)  for  a  mission- 
ary meeting.  Mr.  Breath,  (who  meets  with  the 
children  at  their  missionary  concert,)  is  treasurer. 
We  intend  to  send  our  money  to  Bootan^  and 
support  a  missionary  there. 

"  Mamma  sends  her  love  to  you.  Please  ac- 
cept this,  with  much  love, 

"  From  your  affectionate  young  friend, 
"Judith  G.  Perkins." 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  47 

When  Miss  Harris  approached  Oroomiah,  Ju- 
dith's long  cherished  desire,  to  go  a  few  days' 
journey  and  meet  her,  was  strongly  revived,  and 
was  gratified  by  the  kindness  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Stoddard,  who  went  to  Khoy,  to  help  and  cheer 
that  missionary  sister  over  the  wearisomeness  and 
loneliness  of  the  way,  and  took  Judith  with  them. 

The  children's  teacher  finally  reached  her  des- 
tination, on  the  2nd  of  July,  1852,  and  Judith's 
cup  of  joy  seemed  full.  With  unspeakable  grati- 
fication, she  attended  the  long  anticipated  school 
seven  weeks,  and  then  her  place  in  it  was  sud- 
denly vacated  forever. 

The  grief  of  that  teacher,  occasioned  by  the 
death  of  her  eldest  pupil,  so  soon  after  she  reached 
the  field,  —  the  pupil  with  whose  name  her  future 
labors  had  been  intimately  associated  in  her 
mind,  in  America,  and  on  her  long  and  weary 
way  to  Persia,  may  be  better  conceived  than  de- 
scribed. It  is  not  strange,  that  she  pathetically 
said,  as  the  tears  coursed  rapidly  down  her 
cheeks,  the  day  after  Judith's  funeral,  "it  now 
seems  to  me  as  though  my  work  was  done." 

But  besides  her  dnect  labors  for  the  Nesto- 
rians,  there  are  many  other  children  in  the  mis- 
sion, who,  though  younger,  will,  if  spared,  soon 
reach  Judith's  age,  and  now  equally  need  that 
teacher's  laborious  care  ;  and  the  youngest  will 
erelong  swell  the  number  of  her  precious,  im- 


48  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER  ;     OR 

portant,  and  responsible  charge.  She  can  still 
aid  the  feeble  and  toil-worn  missionary  mothers, 
encouraging  their  hearts  and  strengthening  their 
hands;  and  relieve  the  burdened  missionary 
fathers,  enabling  them  to  give  themselves  more 
fully  "  to  the  ministry  of  the  word,"  and  render- 
ing them  more  cheerful,  contented,  and  efficient 
in  their  labors,  than  when  borne  down  with  care 
and  solicitude  for  their  children,  without  a  school, 
and  may  probably  thus  protract,  by  many  years, 
the  period  of  their  missionary  service.  She  can 
contribute  to  rear  more  sweet  "  Persian  flowers," 
to  bloom  and  shed  forth  their  blessed  fragrance, 
and  aid  essentially  in  the  evangelization  of  this 
benighted  land,  as  did  young  Judith,  by  the  grace 
of  God  and  through  her  mother's  instruction. 

But  Judith's  vacant  seat  in  that  school,  will 
never  be  forgotten,  nor  unmourned,  by  either 
teacher  or  pupils.  They  now  often  give  utter- 
ance to  their  feelings  of  bereavement,  by  singing, 
within  the  saddened  walls  of  their  pleasant 
school-room,  which  is  situated  on  the  terrace, 
where  Judith  used  daily  to  walk,  and  play, 
and  meditate,  and  admire  the  "  handiworks  "  of 
God,  the  sweet  hymn,  of  which  the  following 
stanzas  are  a  part :  — 

"  Death  has  been  here  and  borne  away, 
A  sister  from  our  side ; 
Just  in  the  morning  of  her  day, 
As  young  as  we,  she  died. 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  ^ 

"  "We  cannot  tell  who  next  may  ftill. 

Beneath  the  chastening  rod ; 

One  must  be  first,  but  let  us  all 

Prepare  to  meet  our  God." 

Next  to  Judith's  strong  desire  for  a  school  at 
Oroomiah,  was  her  fond  anticipation  of  one  day 
becoming  a  member  of  the  Mount  Holyoke  Fe- 
male Seminary,  in  America.  This  was  the  sum- 
mit of  her  aspirations,  in  regard  to  her  education. 
She  had,  for  several  years,  regularly  read  the' 
journals  sent  from  that  seminary  to  its  mission- 
ary graduates ;  and  she  earnestly  longed  to  en- 
joy the  privileges  of  that  school  of  revivals,  and 
other  good  things,  from  which  her  kind  friends. 
Miss  Fisk,  Miss  Rice,  and  Mrs.  Stoddard  had 
come,  and  from  which  one  of  her  cousins  often 
wrote  her,  during  the  last  two  years  of  her  life, 
urging  her  to  come  to  America,  and  dwell  with 
her  kindred.  Her  perusal  of  the  memoir  of  Miss 
Lyon,  the  illustrious  founder  of  that  Seminary, 
finally  gave  intense  effect  to  all  her  previous 
longings  on  the  subject. 

The  desire  of  being  ready  to  enter  Mount  Hol- 
yoke Seminary,  at  the  prescribed  age,  enhanced 
her  zeal  in  her  studies,  even  when  she  was  quite 
small.  As  illustrating  this  point,  and  the  inter- 
est always  taken  in  her  proficiency  by  Miss  Fisk,. 
and  especially  in  her  religious  welfare,  the  fol- 
lowing note  from  that  friend,  acknowledging  the 
4 


'W  THE    PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

first  note,  ever  written  by  Judith,  is  here  in- 
serted. 

"  Clti/,  Oct.  27 tJi,  1848. 
"  My  dear  Judith,  —  I  was  very  glad  to  re- 

^ueive  your  little  note  yesterday.  I  think  that  you 
did  very  well  for  the  first  time.  I  will  keep  your 
note,  so  as  to  tell  you,  when  you  are  grown  up, 
how  old  you  were,  when  you  began  to  write  let- 
ters. 1  think  that  you  will  be  able  to  write  your 
grandpapa  pretty  soon.  Do  you  not  think  that 
he  would  be  very  much  pleased  to  receive  a  let- 
ter from  you  ?     I  am  sure  that  he  would. 

"I  hope  that  you  love  to  study  as  well  as 
write.  How  many  pages  have  you  learned  in 
your  arithmetic  ?  Learn  as  fast  as  you  can,  so 
•as  to  be  ready  to  go  to  Mount  Holyoke  when 
you  are  sixteen.  Perhaps  your  papa  and  mam- 
ma will  read  to  you  about  Miss  "Washburn,  who 
•died  there  last  summer.  I  remember  her  very 
well.  She  was  but  a  little  larger  than  you  are 
now,  when  I  came  from  America  with  you  and 
our  other  good  friends.  I  hope  you  will  love  the 
Saviour  as  she  did. 

"  Thank  little  Fidelia  and  Mary  for  their 
kisses,  and  give  them  some  very  sweet  ones  from 
aunt  Fidelia.  My  love  also  to  your  papa  and 
mamma.  I  shall  always  be  very  glad  to  hear 
from  you.  Much  love  to  yourself  from  your  af- 
fectionate friend, 

"Fidelia  Fisk." 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  '51 

The  following  is  Judith's  note  above-men- 
tioned, which,  as  being  hex  firsts  is  here  inserted. 

"  Seir,  Oct.  2Mli,  1848. 
"Dear   Miss  Fisk,  —  As   you  said    I  might 
write  you  letters,  I  now  make  my  first  attempt. 
We  are  all  very  well.     Father  and  mother  send 
love  to  you.     Yours  truly, 

"Judith." 
"  P.  S.     Mary  and  Fidelia  both  send  love  and 
kisses  to  aunt  Fidelia.  J." 

As  a  source  of  high  enjoyment  and  of  health, 
as  well  as  of  improvement,  and  indicative  of  her 
tact  and  capability,  we  should  not  omit  to  men- 
tion Judith's  riding  on  a  saddle ;  there  having, 
until  recently,  been  no  wheel  carriages  in  Oroo- 
miah.  From  the  age  of  five  years  until  ten,  she 
was  accustomed  to  ride  on  a  white  donkey,  of 
the  kind  common  in  the  south  of  Persia,  which 
was  gentle,  and  easily  managed  by  a  child. 
During  the  last  two  years  of  her  life,  she  rode  an 
equally  gentle  pony,  presented  to  her  by  an  Eng- 
lish gentleman,*  which  she  greatly  prized  and 
admired.  The  friend  who  presented  him  to  her, 
died  suddenly  at  Tehran,  a  few  months  before 
her  death. 

*  Dr.  P.  Casolani. 


52  THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER. 

Judith  was  exceedingly  fond  of  riding,  in 
which  she  soon  became  very  expert,  and  even 
heroic.  On  one  long  journey,  in  particular,  when 
but  ten  years  old,  in  company  with  her  parents 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coan,  she  courageously  and 
successfully  crossed  some  of  the  most  rugged 
and  sublime  mountain  ranges  of  Koordistan,  on 
her  careful  donkey.  This  early  exercise  on  a 
saddle  contributed  to  impart  a  vigor  and  inde- 
pendence to  her  mind,  as  well  as  strength  to  her 
body,  which  hardly  any  thing  else  could  have 
done. 

The  journey  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stoddard,  al- 
ready mentioned,  was  performed  on  her  favorite 
pony ;  and  in  no  instance  did  she  ever  seem  to 
enjoy  riding  more  than  on  that  journey,  which 
she  often  mentioned  afterward,  as  one  of  the 
happiest  weeks  of  her  life.  The  journey  on 
which  she  died,  yet  to  be  described,  was  per- 
formed, and  with  great  enjoyment,  on  the  same 
gentle  animal.  As  he  was  led  home  desolate, 
after  being  suddenly  bereft  of  his  youthful  rider 
on  the  road,  a  member  of  the  mission  remarked, 
"  the  donor  and  the  owner  are  now  both  gone." 


CHAPTER  V. 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


It  is  of  course  not  to  be  expected,  that  a  child, 
who  died  at  the  age  of  twelve  years,  would  leave 
behind  her  an  extensive  correspondence,  to  illus- 
trate her  character  and  attainments.  A  consid- 
erable portion  of  Judith's  notes  and  letters,  and 
those  prepared  with  the  most  care,  and  probably 
the  most  interesting,  as  indicating  her  religious 
feelings,  are  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  scat- 
tered among  her  relatives  and  friends,  —  too  far 
away  to  be  recovered  for  this  purpose.  Enough, 
however,  are  introduced,  to  serve  as  specimens 
of  the  ease  and  maturity  of  her  style.  These 
were  always  very  striking,  in  her  conversation. 
It  is  recollected,  that  a  member  of  the  mission, 
while  one  day  observing  her  at  play  with  her  lit- 
tle brother,  when  she  was  five  years  old,  suddenly 
burst  into  laughter,  assigning  as  the  reason,  that 
he  was  "  so  much  amused,  with  the  aged  expres- 
sions of  that  child,  even  in  her  play." 

Something  of  the  maturity  of  her  language 
may,  indeed,  have  been  owing  to  her  circum- 


54  THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER:     OR 


stances,  early  associating  mostly  with  her  parents 
and  their  fellow  laborers,  and  removed  from  the 
general  society  of  children ;  but  not  all ;  for  she 
was  peculiar,  in  this  respect,  among  the  mission- 
ary children ;  and  her  maturity  was  as  marked 
in  the  topics  and  ideas,  as  in  the  style,  of  her 
conversation. 

During  the  last  few  months  of  her  life,  there 
was  a  mission  station  in  Gawar,  an  extensive 
and  beautiful  valley,  or  elevated  plain,  among 
the  lofty  mountains  of  Koordistan,  about  seventy 
miles  west  of  Oroomiah.  Mrs.  Coan,  the  only  fe- 
male missionary  who  resided  at  that  new  station, 
during  the  first  year  after  it  was  commenced, 
kindly  numbered  Judith  among  her  regular  and 
familiar  correspondents,  primarily  for  the  gratifi- 
cation and  improvement  of  the  child.  We  now 
introduce  a  note  from  Mrs.  Coan ;  and  several 
follow  from  Judith  to  her,  in  the  order  of  their 
date,  which  are  interesting  not  so  much  of  course 
for  the  intrinsic  importance  of  their  contents,  as 
being  the  artless,  unstudied  effusions  of  her  own 
mind. 

"  Gawar,  April  12th,  1852. 

"My  dear  Judith, —  My  note  to  you  must 

necessarily  be  short,  as  I  have  but  little  time, 

and  I  cannot  write  late  at  night.    "We  rise  quite 

early,   half-past  five,    (though   perhaps    you  in 


.      JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  55 

Orooiniah  will  not  call  it  early,)  and  I  retire  as 
early  as  ten. 

"  I  am  very  glad  our  letters  interest  you  so 
much.  I  am  sure  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  us  to 
write,  when  we  have  something  to  communicate, 
which  is  not  so  often  as  I  could  wish. 

"  You  seem  to  have  very  pleasant  times,  and 
to  be  enjoying  yourselves  very  much,  and  I  am 
very  glad  it  is  so.  I  hope  you  are  also  improv- 
ing your  opportunities  for  usefulness  ;  for  even  a 
little  girl  like  you  may  be  useful  in  many  re- 
spects ;  if  in  no  other,  by  setting  a  good  example 
before  all  whom  she  meets.  Being  the  eldest  of 
the  children,  all  naturally  look  to  you  for  a  pat- 
tern ;  and  I  hope  it  is  such  as  you  will  not  be 
ashamed  of,  at  some  future  day. 

"  You  are  often  reminded  that  time  is  short. 
I  suppose  that  Iwaz  *  little  thought  he  had  so  few 
days  to  live,  when  he  returned  to  the  seminary, 
after  vacation.  So  we  know  not  the  day  nor  the 
hour,  when  we  may  be  called  to  lie  down  and 
die.  O  let  us  strive  to  be  ready,  whenever  it 
may  be ! 

"  Much  love  to  Henry  and  for  yourself.  I  re- 
main your  affectionate  friend, 

"  S.   P.   COAN." 
*  A  member  of  the  male  seminary,  who  died  at  Seir. 


§6  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

From  Judith  to  Mrs.  Coan. 

«  Oroomiah,  Dec.  9th,  1851. 

*'  My  dear  Mrs.  Coan,  —  As  Mr.  Stocking  and 
Mr.  Stoddard  are  leaving  to-morrow  for  Gawar, 
I  take  the  opportunity  to  write  you  a  short  note. 
We  have  missed  you  and  your  family,  (including 
Mr.  Rhea,)  very  much,  since  you  went  to  Ga- 
war, especially  on  thanksgiving  day.  We  chil- 
dren, as  usual,  counted  all  that  were  seated  in 
our  parlor,  and  found  four  missing.  Mr.  Stod- 
dard preached  the  sermon,  and  Mrs.  Stoddard 
prepared  the  thanksgiving  supper.  Three  hymns 
were  sung,  and  I  played  the  tunes  on  the  sera- 
phine.  They  were  Ortonville,  Balerma,  and  Ol- 
mutz. 

"  Henry  and  myself  go  on  regularly  with  our 
studies ;  I  also  practise  daily  on  the  seraphine, 
and  am  learning  to  sing  a  little.  I  led  the  sing- 
ing at  our  last  children's  monthly  concert.  I 
;must  now  close.  With  sincerest  love  to  Mr. 
vCoan,  Mr.  Rhea,  and  Alexander, 

"  Believe  me  most  truly  yours, 

"  Judith." 

"  Oroomiah,  Jan.  1st,  1852. 
"My  dear  Mrs.   Coan,  —  I  wish  you  all  a 
Ihappy   new   year.      As    Dr.    Wright   and    Mr. 
IBreath  intend  visiting  Gawar,  I  take  my  pen 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  57 

with  great  pleasure,  to  answer  your  kind  note. 
I  am  very  sorry  to  hear,  that  you  have  the  face 
ache,  and  hope  that  you  will  soon  get  over  it. 
In  your  note,  you  ask  how  many  hours  a  day  I 
practise  on  the  seraphine.  I  think  about  an 
hour  and  a  half.  You  also  ask,  what  we  study. 
I  study  Parley's  Universal  History  —  Arithme- 
tic—  Geography  —  and  Speller  and  Definer;  also 
Grammar.  Henry  studies  Arithmetic,  Geogra- 
phy, Spelling,  and  Reading.  I  am  very  happy 
to  hear  that  Alexander  is  getting  on  so  well  in 
his  studies. 

"  We  have  heard  that  Miss  Harris  has  left 
America. 

"  Mamma  sends  her  love  to  you.     Her  head 
aches,  this  morning,  or  she  would  write  you. 

"  Please  give  my  sincerest  love  to  Mr.  Coan, 
Mr.  Rhea,  and  Alexander,  and  accept  this  hastily 
written  note  (as  I  have  not  time  to  copy  it). 
"  From  your  affectionate  friend, 

"Judith   G.  Perkins." 

"  Oroomiah,  Feb.  2d,  1852. 
"  Dear  Mrs.  Coan,  —  I  thank  you  very  much 
for  your  kind  note,  and  my  only  apology  for  not 
answering  it,  by  the  last  messenger,  is,  that  I  had 
no  time,  being  Henry's  amanuensis,  in  writing  to 
Alexander,  and  it  being  late  in  the  evening  when 
I  commenced. 


58  THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER  ;   OR 

"  To  day  I  read  your  journal  through,  and  was 
very  glad  to  know  how  you  pass  your  days  at 
your  mountain  home.  How  much  surprised 
you  must  have  been,  to  hear  that  Mr.  Breath  had 
come.  I  was  very  glad  to  hear  that  you  could 
get  out  at  all,  even  on  a  hand  sled.  I  hope  you 
enjoyed  your  ride.  While  Mr.  Breath  was  gone 
to  Gawar,  I  stayed  with  Mrs.  Breath.  She  was 
rather  anxious  about  him.  Papa  told  her,  he 
hoped  that  she  was  not  sorry  he  had  gone.  She 
said,  '  I  shall  not  be,  after  he  returns.' 

"  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  write  to  Mr.  Rhea. 
Please  give  my  love  to  him  —  also  to  Mr.  Coan 
and.  Alexander  —  accepting  a  large  share  for 
yourself. 

"  From  your  affectionate  friend, 

^'Judith  G.  Perkins." 

To  appreciate  some  of  the  allusions  in  the 
preceding  note,  the  reader  should  be  informed, 
that  the  elevated  district  of  Gawar,  hemmed  in 
on  all  sides  by  the  lofty  Koordish  mountains,  is 
subject  to  terrible  storms  of  snow  during  its  long 
winter.  It  is  significantly  called  by  the  natives, 
"  the  sjioiv  treasuryy  The  entire  fall  of  snow  on 
the  plain,  during  the  first  winter's  residence  of 
the  missionaries  there,  which  was  pronounced 
by  the  Nestorians  an  uncommonly  mild  season, 
was  about  eighteen  feet,  there  being  from  seven 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  59^ 

to  nine  feet  on  level,  for  a  considerable  period. 
Hence  the  difficulty  of  IVIi's.  Coan's  getting  out 
for  exercise. 

The  high  range  of  mountains,  which  separates 
Gawar  from  Oroomiah,  is  usually  rendered  im- 
passable, several  months  of  the  year,  for  any 
beast  of  burden ;  and  footmen,  who  travel  with 
broad  moccasins,  or  on  wicker  snow-shoes,  are 
often  in  imminent  peril,  and  sometimes  perish, 
in  storms  or  blows  that  suddenly  overtake  them, 
in  crossing  that  mountain.  Dr.  Wright  accom- 
panied Mr.  Breath  on  his  way  to  Gawar,  to  the 
top  of  that  high  range,  and  there  turned  back, 
finding  the  travelling  so  difficult,  that  ihe  journey 
would  require  a  longer  period  than  he  could  be 
absent  from  his  family.  Mr.  Breath  proceeded 
alone,  and  hence  the  solicitude  respecting  him, 
referred  to  in  the  foregoing  note. 

Mrs.  Breath  thus  speaks  of  Judith's  stay  with 
her,  during  her  husband's  absence.  "  Dear  Ju- 
dith's allusion  to  her  visit  with  me,  in  the  note  of 
February  2d  to  Mrs.  Coan,  calls  many  tender  re- 
collections of  her  to  my  mind.  She  was  so 
womanly  —  so  pleasant  a  companion!  Our 
evenings  were  delightfully  spent,  in  reading 
poetry,  which  she  so  highly  enjoyed.  On  Sab- 
bath evening,  she  proposed  reciting  such  hymns 
as  we  could  from  memory.  At  my  request,  hers 
were  sung.     It  was  a  happy  hour  to  us  both." 


60  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;     OR 

"  Oroomiah,  Feb.  2Gth,  1852. 

Dear  Mrs.  Co  an, —  I  thank  you  very  much 
for  the  kind  advice  your  note  contained.  I  esteem 
it  a  great  favor,  that  you,  with  all  your  labors  and 
cares,  should  write  me,  when  you  have  so  many 
other  correspondents.  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that 
you  have  not  been  able  to  ride  out  on  your  sled, 
but  am  glad  you  can  get  out  at  all. 

'•  Last  Friday,  we  went  down  to  the  city  in 
our  sleigh.  When  we  went  down,  it  was  pretty 
good  going ;  but  in  coming  up,  there  was  so 
much  bare  ground,  that  papa  said,  he  really 
thought  it  was  the  last  sleigh -ride  we  should  take, 
this  winter.  Yesterday,  we  went  down  to  the 
city  and  found  Caty  Wright  sick  with  a  high 
fever. 

"  Poor  Hosmer,*  who  has  long  been  very  ill, 
lies  apparently  at  the  point  of  death. 

"  To-morrow,  the  pupils  of  the  male  seminary 
have  a  vacation ;  and  after  four  weeks,  the  girls 
will  have  one. 

"  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  give  my  love  to 
Mr.  Rhea.  As  the  messenger  goes  to-morrow 
morning,  I  fear  that  I  shall  not  have  time  to  ac- 
knowledge his  note  to  the  children,  by  this  oppor- 
tunity. 

*  A  pious  Nestorian  woman,  in  the  village  of  Seir. 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  61 

"  Please  give  my  love  to  ]\Ir.  Coan  and  Alex- 
ander,  accepting  much  for  yourself. 

"  From  your  affectionate  young  friend, 

"Judith." 

•It  is  proper  to  state,  that  the  vehicle,  dignified 
by  the  title  of  sleigh,  in  the  above  note,  Avould 
hardly  bear  that  epithet  in  America.  It  was  a 
rude  sled,  constructed  by  Judith's  father,  for  the 
double  purpose  of  amusing  his  children  and  giv- 
ing them  exercise  in  winter.  Yet,  it  was  the 
nearest  to  the  sleigh  species,  of  any  thing  they  had 
ever  seen. 

"  Oroomiah,  March  IStJi,  1852. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Coan,  —  The  reason  I  did  not 
answer  your  other  note  by  the  first  messenger 
was,  that  I  was  not  feeling  well  at  the  time.  The 
next  Saturday  after  the  messenger  left,  I  was 
taken  sick ;  on  Sunday  I  had  a  high  fever,  all 
day,  and  took  medicine ;  on  Monday,  I  sat  up  a 
little ;  on  Tuesday,  I  was  some  better,  but  did 
nothing  all  that  week. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  know  how  my 
time  is  occupied.  We  usually  finish  prayers  and 
breakfast,  about  eight  o'clock.  From  that  time 
till  half-past  nine,  I  help  mamma.  I  study  from 
that  time  till  after  twelve.  From  then  till  two 
o'clock,  I  have  stepping-about  work,  dinner,  etc., 


62  THE  PERSIAN  flower;  or 

etc.  From  two  o'clock  till  three,  I  sew  or  knit. 
At  three,  I  go  on  the  roof  to  wallc.  At  four,  I 
sometimes  play  on  the  seraphine,  or  write.  At 
five,  we  have  tea.  At  six,  I  play  on  the  seraphine 
an  hour.  At  seven,  mamma  reads  to  us  an  hour, 
and  I  knit.  I  then  read  half  an  hour,  and  then 
comes  my  bed  time. 

Sabbath  *  before  last  was  so  stormy,  that  none 
of  the  ladies  or  children  came  up  from  the  city  to 
meeting ;  but  Mr.  Breath  thought  that  the  chil- 
dren here  had  better  have  their  missionary  meet- 
ing, though  there  were  only  five,  as  we  had  not 
had  one  for  two  months,  and  would  not,  perhaps, 
be  able  to  get  together  for  some  time  to  come. 
We  sung  the  581st  hymn  [Church  Psalmody]  be- 
ginning with  the  verse, 

'  Now  in  the  heat  of  youthful  blood, 
Remember  your  Creator,  God ; 
Before  the  months  come  hastening  on, 
When  you  shall  say,  my  joys  are  gone.' 

Though  we  are  so  few,  we  raised  one  tomon,  two 
sahib  JwranSy  and  one  shcihi;  [about  two  dollars 
and  a  half]. 

"  Please  give  my  love  to  Mr.  Coan,  Mr.  Rhea, 
Sanem,  and  Alexander. 

"  From  your  aftectionate  friend, 

"Judith  G.  Perkins." 

*  Being  communion  Sabbath,  when  the  mission  are  usually 
all  together. 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  63 

"  Oroomiali,  April  Sd,  1852. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Coan,  —  Yesterday  afternoon 
papa  came  down  stairs,  saying  the  Gawar  mail 
had  come ;  and  each  one  asked,  '  have  I  got  a 
letter  ? '  Henry  was  reciting  his  lesson  in  arith- 
metic, and  was  very  impatient  till  he  had  finished 
it,  that  he  might  open  his  note.  We  are  very 
much  delighted  when  we  receive  letters  from 
Gawar,  especially  your  Journal,  which  I  always 
read. 

"  Yesterday,  we  were  invited  to  Mr.  Stoddard's 
to  tea.  In  the  evening,  we  all  played,  '  Button, 
button,  who 's  got  the  button  ?  '  Once,  when 
Mr.  Stoddard  was  judge,  thinking  that  it  was 
mi/  forfeit,  he  said,  '  she  must  say  half  the  mul- 
tiplication table ; '  so  mamma  had  to  say  it. 

"  A  young  man  in  the  seminary,  named  Iioaz^ 
died  on  the  last  day  of  March.  His  disease  was 
typhus  *  fever,  and  none  of  the  ladies  saw  him 
during  his  sickness. 

"  It  is,  as  you  see  by  the  date,  the  3d  of  April, 
and  the  mountain  has  been  covered  with  flowers  ; 
still,  we  have  had  a  heavy  snow-storm,  and  sleet, 
all  day.    I  wonder  what  the  weather  is  in  Gawar! 

"  My  time  for  writing  is  up,  and  I  must  close, 

*  So  fatally  infectious,  that  it  was  not  deemed  expedient  for 
any  to  visit  Ms  room,  except  those  who  were  needed  to  take  care 
of  him. 


64 

with  love  to  Mr.  Rhea,  Mr.  Coan,  Sanem,  and 
Alexander  and  yourself. 

"  From  your  affectionate  friend, 

"Judith   G.  Perkins." 

The  foregoing  note  suggests  a  point  that  may 
not  readily  occur  to  the  youthful  reader,  namely, 
that  missionaries,  in  a  benighted  land,  amid  the 
manifold  temptations  and  exposures  that  sur- 
round their  children,  must  be  their  companions 
in  their  little  amusements,  more  than  might  be 
necessary  in  America,  where  children  can  be  more 
safely  trusted  out  of  the  sight  of  their  parents. 

"  Oroomiah,  April  19th,  1852. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Coan,  —  Your  welcome  letters 
reached  us  on  Friday  night,  and  as  Saturday  is 
rather  a  busy  day  with  me,  I  deferred  writing 
until  now ;  and  as  I  hear  the  messenger  leaves 
to-morrow  morning,  my  note  must  be  short. 

"  I  heard,  by  one  of  the  letters,  that  Shabas 
has  concluded  to  remain  with  you.  I  was  very 
happy  to  hear  it ;  for  if  he  had  left  you,  and  you 
had  had  all  the  work  to  do,  besides  teaching-,  I 
am  afraid  you  would  have  been  sick. 

"  Ansep  [the  Nestorian  nurse]  has  gone  to  the 
feast,  and  has  not  yet  returned.  In  her  absence, 
I  have  made  all  the  bread,  and  washed  and 
wiped  all  the  dishes. 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  65 

"  This  morning,  we  all  took  a  very  pleasant  ride 
to  Sheikh  hill.  Perhaps  some  of  you  have  seen 
it,  and  I  will  not  describe  it.  Mamma  sends 
love,  but  is  too  tired  to  write. 

"  I  must  close,  with  love  to  you  and  all. 
"  From  your  affectionate  friend, 

"Judith  G.  Perkins." 

The  faithful  old  Nestorian  nurse,  Ansep,  refer- 
red to  above,  had  long  resided  in  the  family,  and 
become  most  devotedly  attached  to  the  children, 
especially  to  Judith.  Being  now  in  poor  health, 
she  remained  with  her  friends  several  weeks, 
when  she  visited  them  at  the  Nestorian  festival 
of  Easter.  Since  Judith's  death,  she  states,  with 
many  tears,  among  other  recollections  of  her,  that 
the  kind  and  thoughtful  child  charged  her,  on 
leaving,  not  to  hasten  back,  nor  come  until  she 
should  be  recruited  and  quite  well ;  as  she  her- 
self was  able,  and  desired  to  do  much  of  the  work 
in  the  family,  during  her  absence. 

Judith's  father  and  little  brother  visited  the 
missionaries  in  Gawar,  as  early  in  the  spring  as 
the  mighty  barrier  of  snow  would  allow  them  to 
cross  the  high  range  of  mountains,  already  men- 
tioned. They  reached  the  new  station,  some  of 
the  way  through  two  and  three  feet  of  snow,  on 
the  first  day  of  May.  Their  visit  is  referred  to 
5 


66  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

in  the  note  which  follows.     Mr.  Coan  returned 
with  them  to  Orooniiah,  on  business. 

"  Oroomiah,  May  15th,  1852. 

*'Dear  Mrs.  Coan, —  I  intended  to  acknowl- 
edge your  kind  note  by  Kallash,  but  as  I  was 
somewhat  expecting  Mr.  Coan,  papa,  and  Henry, 
at  that  time,  I  thought  I  would  wait  and  send  a 
note  by  Mr.  C. 

"  Sabbath  before  last  being  the  first  Sabbath 
of  the  month,  we  had  our  missionary  meeting. 
I  think  we  raised  one  tomon,  six  sahib  korans,  and 
five  shdhis  [about  three  dollars  and  a  half].  Some 
one  said,  that  we  raised  more  than  they  did  at 
Geog  Tapa,  this  time. 

"  I  presume  that  Henry  has  told  you  all  about 
our  botany  class,  so  I  will  not  recapitulate,  —  but 
perhaps  he  has  not  told  you  about  our  Sabbath 
school.  The  school  is  opened  by  singing,  —  then 
Mrs.  Stoddard  prays,  we  next  say  our  hymns, 
and  then  our  Bible  lessons.  We  are  now  study- 
ing the  life  of  Christ.  For  every  perfect  lesson, 
we  are  marked  four. 

"  Yesterday  I  saw  an  anecdote  in  one  of  the 
papers,  which  is  quite  amusing.  Henry  wished 
me  to  write  it  down  for  you  to  tell  to  Alexander. 
A  lady.  Miss  Mix,  was  trying  to  teach  a  little 
child.  She  had  got  him  clean  through  the  alpha- 
bet, and  ba,  be,  bi,  etc.,  and  now  had  put  him 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS. 


6f' 


into  syllables  of  la-dy^  etc. ;  and  was  trying  to 
make  him  understand  the  meaning  of  syllables. 
In  order  to  interest  him,  she  said, '  you  love  pies, 
don't  you  ?  '  '  Yes  ma'am.'  '  Apple  and  pie, 
put  together,  make  what?  '  '  Apple-pie.'  '  By  a 
like  rule,  la  and  dy^  make  lady.  You  under- 
stand ? '  *  Yes  ma'am.'  '  Mince  a7id  pie,  spell 
what,  then  ?  '  '  Mince-pie.'  '  Well  I  pumpkin  and 
pie  ?  '  '  Pumpkin-pie.'  '  Then  what  does  la-dy 
spell  ? '  '  Custard  jtie^  said  he,  with  a  yell  of 
delight. 

"  Mr.  Coan  spent  last  Sabbath  at  our  house. 
We  enjoyed  his  visit  very  much.  When  Henry 
came  home,  he  had  a  great  deal  to  tell  us.  He 
described  your  house  to  us.  I  hope  the  ground 
will  soon  be  dry  enough  for  you  to  live  in  tents ; 
though  I  am  not  sure  you  will  be  much  more 
comfortably  situated. 

"  I  was  somewhat  disappointed,  in  your  not 
coming  down  with  Mr.  Coan,  but  hope  you  will 
come  soon. 

"  Henry  told  me  that  you  rode  once  on  my 
pony,  while  he  was  in  Gawar.  I  hope  you 
enjoyed  your  ride. 

"  My  note  is  rather  longer  than  I  intended  it 
to  be,  —  so  I  must  close,  with  love  to  Mr.  Rhea, 
Sanem,  and  Alexander,  and  hoping  that  you  will 
accept  much  for  yourself. 

"  From  your  young  friend, 

"Judith  G.  Perkins.' 


68  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

The  house  of  the  missionaries  in  Gawar,  men- 
tioned in  the  foregoing  note,  was  a  rude  mud 
hovel,  which  would  not  be  deemed  fit  for  a  stable 
in  America.  They  were  subjected  to  extreme 
annoyance  from  smoke  and  vermin,  and  great 
exposure  from  dampness,  during  their  winter 
residence  in  that  hovel. 

"  OroomiaJi,  Jime  18th,  1852. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Coan,  —  Please  accept  many 
thanks  for  your  kind  note ;  and  though  it  is  ac- 
knowledged so  late  in  the  day,  I  hope  you  will 
excuse  it,  as  it  is  very  warm,  these  days.  I  can 
hardly  do  any  thing,  most  of  the  time,  but  sew 
and  knit  and  practise  on  the  seraphine.  I  must 
not  forget  to  tell  you,  that  a  little  while  since,  the 
music  books,  which  Mrs.  Wright  sent  for,  reached 
us  safely. 

"  Last  Monday,  a  Russian  gentleman  arrived 
at  the  city.  He  came  up  to  Seir,  on  Tuesday 
morning,  to  breakfast,  and  stayed  with  us  until  the 
next  morning.  His  name  is  KhanikofF.  He  has 
been  on  the  top  of  Mount  Ararat.  His  tent  re- 
mained two  days  between  the  two  Ararats.  He 
makes  great  Ararat  to  be  about  seventeen  thou- 
sand feet  high.  When  on  the  top,  he  and  his 
party  kindled  a  fire,  and  it  sunk  in  the  snow. 

"  We  have  cherries  now.  They  are  very  fine. 
I  wish  you  could  have  some.  Why  will  you  not 
come  down  and  make  us  a  visit  ? 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS.  09 

"  We  hope,  next  Monday,  (if  we  can  obtain 
horses,)  to  go  to  Gavalan ;  so  I  must  stop  and 
finish  some  mending,  on  my  dress  and  stockings, 
or  I  fear  I  shall  not  get  them  done.  The  stock- 
ings which  you  gave  me,  last  year,  were  a  little 
too  large,  but  they  do  very  well,  this  summer. 

"  I  cannot  give  you  Henry's  description  of 
your  house  now,  but  will  try  to  do  so  next  time. 

"  Please  give  much  love  to  Mr.  Coan,  Mr. 
Ehea,  and  Alexander. 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"  Judith  G.  Perkins." 

The  visit  to  Gavalan,  above  referred  to,  was 
made  principally  for  the  benefit  of  Judith's  health 
and  that  of  her  mamma.  Mr.  Stocking's  family 
were  spending  a  few  months  at  that  village, 
which  is  about  forty  miles  distant  from  the  city 
of  Oroomiah,  as  a  health  retreat. 

With  these  notes  to  Mrs.  Coan,  we  insert  the 
following  one  to  Miss  Rice,  which  possesses  a 
melancholy  interest,  as  being  the  last  that  Judith 
ever  wrote,  —  at  least,  the  last  that  has  been  re- 
covered. Miss  Rice  was  spending  the  summer 
in  Mr.  Stocking's  family,  at  Gavalan. 

"  Oroomiah,  Aug.  lliJi,  1852. 
"  My  dear  Miss   Rice,  —  Please   accept   my 
thanks  for  the  very  pretty  seraphine-stool,  which 


7P  THE   PERSIAN    FLOWER. 

you  were  so  kind  as  to  give  me,  on  my  twelfth 
birthday.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stocking  reached  here 
late  on  Monday  evening.  They  are  with  us  at 
tea,  to-night,  and  hope  to  retm*n  to-morrow,  so  I 
must  hasten. 

"  We  all  enjoy  our  school  very  much.  Yester- 
day, a  box  came  from  America,  containing  some 
things  for  our  school,  and  a  telegraph  model  for 
Mr.  Stoddard. 

"  Please  give  my  love  to  Miss  Fisk,  and  accept 
thanks  and  much  love  for  yourself. 

"  From  your  affectionate  friend, 

"Judith  G.  Perkins." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HER   SOCIAL   TRAITS. 


Few  are  more  social^  in  their  disposition  and 
character,  than  was  Judith.  She  was  ever  ex- 
ceedingly delighted  to  receive  visits  from  the 
children  of  the  mission,  even  the  youngest,  and 
to  visit  them  at  their  homes.  The  "  little  dinner," 
or  humble  collation  on  a  cricket,  surrounded  by 
the  young  group  on  the  carpet  of  the  earth  floor, 
was  the  height  of  her  entertainment ;  on  such 
occasions,  a  blessing  usually  being  implored,  at 
the  commencement  of  the  juvenile  meal.  She 
was  very  active,  prompt,  and  skilful,  in  furnish- 
ing agreeable  plays  for  the  lively  children,  which 
is  a  problem,  not  always  of  easy  solution,  in  the 
quiet  retirement  of  a  missionary's  home. 

Though  an  equal  companion  with  the  smallest 
child,  Judith  was  not  less  interested,  in  listening 
to  the  conversation  of  the  gentlemen  and  ladies- 
of  the  mission,  in  their  social  intercourse.  In- 
deed, she  was  singularly  qualified,  for  one  of  her 
years,  to  enjoy  their  society  and  participate  in 
their  conversation. 


72  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

The  occasional  visits  which  the  mission  re- 
ceived from  travellers,  and  other  European  gen- 
tlemen, were  very  deeply  interesting  events  to 
her.  Such  visits,  in  the  remoteness  of  the  mis- 
sion station  at  Oroomiah,  are  few  and  far  be- 
tween ;  and  in  proportion  to  their  infrequency, 
are  they  welcome  to  the  missionary  exile,  whether 
parent  or  child.  Judith  always  retained  the  most 
vivid  impressions  of  every  such  individual  who 
visited  the  station,  and  seemed  studious  to  im- 
prove the  opportunities,  thus  presented,  to  obtain 
new  information  and  add  to  her  attainments ; 
and  no  visitor  to  Oroomiah  would  soon  forget 
that  missionary  child. 

The  visit  of  the  distinguished  Russian  scholar 
and  traveller,  Chevalier  KhanikofF,  mentioned  in 
one  of  her  notes  to  Mrs.  Coan,  is  such  an  in- 
stance. He  is  one  of  the  Russian  Emperor's 
counsellors  of  State,  at  present  stationed  at  Tif- 
lis ;  a  gentleman  whose  exalted  official  rank, 
.and  vast  and  varied  acquisitions  as  a  profound 
Oriental  and  scientific  scholar,  can  hardly  be 
^surpassed  by  the  amenity  of  his  manners,  the 
modesty  of  his  demeanor — emphatically,  the 
modesty  of  genius,  —  and  the  kindness  of  his 
heart. 

During  his  visit  of  a  day  at  Mount  Seir,  the 
parlor  of  Judith's  home  was  extensively  arrayed 
with  his  barometers,  thermometers,  etc. ;  and  so 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  73 

engrossed  was  he,  in  making  and  recording  ob- 
servations—  watching  his  instruments  with  the 
alertness  of  a  vigilant  sentinel  at  his  post,  that 
he  was  necessarily  obliged  somewhat  to  curtail 
his  social  intercourse,  though  by  no  means  unso- 
cial in  character.  Some  member  of  the  mission 
playfully  remarked,  on  this  subject,  that  ladies 
must  not  expect  to  command  a  large  share  of  the 
time  and  attention  of  such  a  savant.  In  allusion 
to  that  remark,  Judith  said  to  her  mother,  "  Why, 
I  think  he  is  a  very  interesting  man."  Her  char- 
acteristic discrimination  saw  so  much  to  admire, 
in  the  ardent  devotee  to  the  cause  of  science, 
that  she  was  exceedingly  eager  to  catch  every 
word  that  fell  from  his  lips  ;  and  to  her  mamma, 
who  was  more  or  less  occupied  with  domestic 
cares,  she  would  say,  "  Come,  let  us  hasten  and 
finish  our  work,  and  not  lose  what  he  says." 

She  was  especially  interested  in  his  graphic 
account  of  his  ascent  of  Mount  Ararat,  which  he 
made  in  August,  1850.  With  inexpressible  de- 
light, she  listened  to  his  statement  of  the  almost 
inconceivably  magnificent  views  he  enjoyed, 
when  standing  on  the  summit  of  the  sacred 
mountain,  according  to  his  careful  measurement 
16,935  feet  above  the  level  of  the  ocean ;  how  his 
eye  roved  away,  from  that  lofty,  hallowed  obser- 
vatory, to  an  immense  distance  in  all  directions  — 
to  the  great  Caucasian  range  on  the  north ;  to 


74  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

the  Erzroom  mountains,  two  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant, on  the  west  —  over  the  central  Koordish 
mountains  on  the  south,  and  the  regions  about 
the  Caspian  on  the  east.  And  lively  indeed  was 
her  sympathy  with  the  feeling  he  expressed,  that 
the  deepest  impression  made  on  his  mind,  by 
any  thing  on  the  venerable  mountain,  was,  that 
of  the  aioful^  unbroken  silence  that  perpetually 
reigns  there  I 

In  this  connection,  it  is  proper  that  we  record 
Chevalier  KhanikofF's  kind  sympathy  with  Ju- 
dith's bereaved  parents.  In  writing  to  Mr.  Stod- 
dard, after  the  death  of  his  youthful  admirer,  he 
says,  "  I  beg  you  to  have  the  goodness  to  present 
my  kind  regards  to  Mi',  and  Mrs.  Perkins,  and 
say  to  them  how  much  I  have  shared  in  the  sad 
and  unexpected  loss  that  has  befallen  them." 

The  last  visit  of  this  kind,  which  the  missiona- 
ries at  Oroomiah  received,  before  Judith's  death, 
was  that  of  the  English  and  Russian  commis- 
sioners, in  settling  the  boundary  between  Turkey 
and  Persia,  who,  in  the  progress  of  their  sur- 
veys, spent  a  few  days  at  Mount  Seir,  a  short 
time  previous  to  that  melancholy  event.  With 
the  estimable  Colonel  Williams  and  Colonel 
TcherikofT  at  the  head  of  those  commissions,  and 
some  ten  or  twelve  very  intelligent,  accomplished, 
and  amiable  gentlemen  associated  with  them, 
the  whole  party  was  a  very  select  one,  and  would 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  75 

have  been  such  in  any  land.  They  were  in  two 
instances  the  guests  of  the  missionaries,  where 
they  rendered  themselves  exceedingly  agreeable 
and  entertaining;  while  they,  in  turn,  seemed 
equally  to  prize  the  privilege  of  social  intercourse 
with  the  families  of  the  mission,  especially  after 
living  three  years  in  tents,  far  removed  from  the 
civilized  world,  on  the  rugged  and  desert  bound- 
ary. 

Mr.  Loftus,  the  geologist  of  the  party,  came 
fresh  from  several  very  interesting  Scripture  lo- 
calities —  from  the  ruins  of  "  Shushan  the  pal- 
ace ; "  and  the  tomb  of  the  prophet  Daniel ;  and 
j5:om  the  supposed  "  Ur  of  the  Chaldees,"  the 
.early  home  of  the  patriarch  Abraham,  at  which 
places  he  had  made  many  important  discoveries. 
He  had  with  him  a  great  number  of  very  striking 
impressions  and  copies  of  inscriptions  and  sculp- 
tures, from  those  remains,  which  he  kindly  ex- 
hibited to  the  families  of  the  mission,  to  their 
unspeakable  gratification. 

Judith  had  more  than  once  read  Layard's 
"  Nineveh  and  its  Remains,"  and  often  inspected 
specimens  collected  by  her  father  on  the  venera- 
ble site  of  the  prophet  Jonah's  home,  and  studied 
the  subject  with  an  interest  and  intelligence,  that 
had  prepared  her  fully  to  appreciate  such  an  en- 
tertainment. Her  enjoyment  of  the  visit  of  these 
gentlemen  was  quite  indescribable.     The   only 


76  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER  ;    OR 

abatement  to  it  seemed  to  be,  her  apprehension, 
that  her  size  and  appearance,  so  much  above  her 
years,  might  not  be  sufficiently  guarded  by  the 
mantle  of  modesty  —  an  apprehension,  however, 
which  was  felt  by  no  one  so  much  as  by  herself. 

Mr.  Stevens,  the  British  consul  at  Tabreez, 
and  his  brother,  are  also  among  the  estimable 
and  agreeable  visitors  at  Oroomiah,  whom  Ju- 
dith remembered  with  much  interest. 

Of  the  missionaries  of  other  fields,  whose  visits 
and  acquaintance  she  had  enjoyed,  were  the  ven- 
erable Dr.  Glen,  translator  of  the  Bible  into  Per- 
sian ;  Messrs.  Stern,  and  Stern ch us,  of  the  mis- 
sion to  the  Jews  at  Bagdad ;  Mr.  Marsh,  of  Mo- 
sul; Rev.  John  Bowen,  a  delegate  of  the  Eng- 
lish Church  Missionary  Society ;  and  Mr.  San- 
dreczki,  of  the  same  society,  who  is  stationed  at 
Jerusalem.  To  the  last-named  friend,  who  passed 
several  weeks  at  Judith's  home,  in  feeble  health, 
she  became  strongly  attached,  and  after  his  visit, 
corresponded  with  his  little  daughter,  who  was 
about  her  own  age.  We  here  insert  a  note  from 
Anna  Sandreczki,  and  after  it,  Judith's  reply. 

^^  Bonja,  (near  Smyrna,)  Aitg.  13///,,  1851. 
"  Miss  Judith   G.  Perkins  : 

"My  dear  friend,  —  Your  loving  letter  gave 
me  great  pleasure.  It  is  a  long  time  since  dear 
father  came  from  his  journey.     He  has  told  us 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  77 

many  things  of  you,  and  how  much  kindness 
you  have  shown  him.  I  would  be  very  happy  to 
become  acquainted  with  you  and  your  little 
friends. 

"  Our  dear  father  has  often  had  the  fever,  since 
he  came  from  the  journey ;  bht  I  hope  the  Lord 
will  soon  deliver  him  from  this  evil. 

"  The  nice  books  that  you  sent  us,  gave  us 
great  pleasure.  My  sister  and  I  v/ill  be  glad  if 
the  trifles  we  send  you,  are  acceptable,  as  marks 
of  our  sincere  love.  For  you,  the  larger  sewing- 
box;  and  for  your  brother,  one  of  the  pocket- 
books,  with  the  paint  box ;  for  dear  little  sister 
Stocking,  the  other  sewing-box  ;  for  her  brother, 
the  second  pocket-book.  We  should  like  to  send 
you  something  nicer,  but  you  will  not  measm-e 
our  love  by  this.  We  shall  soon  go  to  Jerusalem. 
Yesterday  the  news  came  from  London. 

"  Give  my  respects,  and  my  sister's,  to  your 
dear  parents,  and  all  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  mission ;  love  to  your  dear  brother  and  all 
the  other  children,  whom  we  love,  like  you,  with- 
out knowing  them. 

"  I  remain  yom*  affectionate  friend  and  sister, 
"  Anna  Sandreczki." 


78  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

From  Judith  to  Anna. 

«  Oroomiali,  Feb.  27 tJi,  1852. 

"  My  dear  Friend,  —  Your  precious  note  gave 
me  great  pleasure ;  and  I  hope  you  will  accept 
my  sincerest  thanks  for  the  sweet,  pretty  present 
which  you  and  your  sister  so  kindly  sent  me.  I 
intend  it  to  stand  on  the  centre-table,  in  the  par- 
lor, and  when  I  look  at  it,  I  shall  think  of  you, 
dear  Anna,  whom  though  I  have  not  seen  I  yet 
love. 

"  In  your  note,  you  speak  of  going  to  Jerusa- 
lem. I  suppose  you  are  now  there.  It  seems 
as  though  one  could  hardly  realize,  that  it  is  the 
same  city  where  David,  '  the  sweet  singer  of  Is- 
rael,' reigned ;  and  where  king  Solomon  built 
that  beautiful  temple ;  and  above  all,  where  the 
Saviour  spilt  his  precious  blood  for  sinners. 
Will  you  please  write  and  tell  me  how  that  an- 
cient city  looks  now  ? 

"  Since  your  dear  father  was  here,  many 
changes  have  taken  place  in  our  mission.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Stoddard,  with  their  little  daughter, 
Harriet,  and  Mr.  Rhea,  have  reached  us  in  safety. 
A  mission  station  has  been  established  in  Ga- 
war,  a  mountain  district.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coan, 
and  Mr.  Rhea  are  residing  there.  There  have 
been  additions  also  to  the  children  of  our  mission, 
since  your  father  was  here.     Mrs.  Cochran  has 


JUDITH  G.  PERKINS.  79 

a  little  girl,  named  Caroline,  and  Mrs.  Stocking 
has  a  little  son,  named  Ezra,  and  Mrs.  Wright 
has  a  little  son,  [not  then  named]. 

"  My  note  is  becoming  rather  long,  and  I  must 
close,  with  love  to  your  dear  parents,  and  your 
dear  sister  and  brothers,  begging  you  to  accept  a 
large  share  for  yourself,  from 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"Judith  G.  Perkins." 

Judith's  strongly  social  disposition  was  strik- 
ingly manifest,  in  the  seclusion  of  her  missionary 
home,  in  the  feelings  which  she  cherished  to- 
wards her  relatives  in  America.  She  loved  her 
grand  parents,  uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins,  with  an 
ardor,  and  often  conversed  respecting  them,  with 
a  vividness  and  fervor,  that  could  hardly  have 
been  surpassed,  had  she  gi-own  up  among  them. 
She  deeply  sorrowed,  whenever  she  heard  of  the 
sickness  of  any  of  those  relatives,  and  heartily 
mourned  for  those  of  them  who  died.  On  her 
parents'  receiving  intelligence  of  the  dangerous 
illness  of  her  grandpapa,  she  burst  into  tears,  and 
sobbing  said,  "  Oh,  I  fear  I  shall  never  see  my 
dear  grandpapa  again."  She  generally  cherished 
the  hope,  as  has  been  stated,  that  she  should, 
some  day,  go  to  America,  to  see  her  kindred ; 
and  the  thought  of  failing  to  see  that  peculiarly 
loved    one,  deeply  distressed    her  affectionate 


80  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

heart.  That  grand  parent  died,  a  year  and  a  half 
before  her  death,  and  doubtless  welcomed  that 
youthful  object  of  his  fond  love  on  earth  to  the 
Saviour's  presence  in  heaven. 

The  little  tokens  which  were,  from  time  to 
time,  sent  to  Judith,  by  her  relatives  in  America, 
were  received  with  very  affecting  expressions  of 
gratitude,  and  preserved  with  nicest  care.  But 
her  interest  in  the  absent  and  the  distant,  was  by 
no  means  limited  to  her  relatives,  though  cher- 
ished so  strongly  towards  them.  Many  other 
kind  friends  in  America  had  shown  an  interest 
in  her,  and  sent  her  good  books,  and  other  pre- 
cious tokens.  The  names  of  such  friends,  though 
personally  unknown  to  her,  became  household 
words  with  Judith,  and  though  often  repeated  by 
her,  it  was  almost  as  often  with  the  tear  of  love 
and  gratitude  starting  in  her  eye.  As  an  illus- 
tration of  this  point,  we  may  mention  a  single 
case,  quoting  again  from  the  letter  of  Miss  Fisk 
to  Mrs.  Reed.  "  I  need  not  tell  you  what  flower, 
in  our  happy  circle,  has  withered  on  earth,  to 
bloom,  as  we  trust,  in  heaven ;  nor  what  family 
circle  is  clothed  in  deepest  mourning.  I  seem 
to  hear  you  say,  has  my  own  dear  Judith  been  re- 
moved from  earth  ?  Yes,  my  friend,  that  dear 
child  whom  you  loved,  and  who  so  tenderly  loved 
you,  as  an  unknown,  yet  well  known,  friend,  has 
gone  from  us.     Around   us  are  the  tokens   of 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  81 

your  interest  in  her ;  but  her  sweet  voice  echoes 
not  back  the  lively  gratitude  which  she  ever  felt 
toward  you.  That  little  box  of  play-blocks,  your 
first  gift,  and  still  unbroken  in  number,  with  each 
remembrance,  down  to  the  sweet  dress  in  which 
we  lately  saw  her  robed,  are  still  with  the  be- 
reaved mother,  and  will  not  soon  cease  to  call 
forth  the  grateful  tear  from  bleeding  hearts." 

The  gratitude  cherished  by  her  towards  Mrs. 
Reed,  as  mentioned  in  this  extract,  is  only  an  in- 
stance of  what  she  felt  and  expressed  toward  all 
her  unknown  friends  and  benefactors  in  America. 

Judith's  love  for  the  members  and  families  of 
the  mission,  and  especially  for  the  children, 
seemed  to  know  no  limits.  To  the  parents,  she 
looked  up  with  a  tender,  affectionate,  and  confid- 
ing regard,  surpassed  only  by  that  toward  her 
own  father  and  mother ;  and  their  little  ones,  all 
younger  than  herself,  after  Mr.  Holladay's  family 
left  the  field,  she  loved  and  cherished,  as  though 
all  were  her  brothers  and  sisters.  And  it  is  hardly 
necessary  to  state,  that  her  own  tender,  confiding 
feelings  ever  met  a  warm  response,  in  the  bosoms 
of  all  those  missionary  parents  and  children. 
Said  Mr.  Stoddard  to  her  father,  when  the  latter 
was  about  starting  with  his  family,  to  meet  the 
reinforcement  from  America,  having  in  charge 
little  Sarah  Stoddard,  "I  feel  an  unspeakable 
relief,  by  this  arrangement,  in  regard  to  my  child, 
6 


:82  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

•and  especially,  as  she  will  be  with  Judith,  on  the 
road." 

A  beautiful  infant  daughter  of  Mr.  Cochran, 
'born  just  a  week  to  an  hour  after  the  mournful 
■event  of  Judith's  death,  bears  the  name  of  Judith 
Perkins. 

As  referring  to  some  of  the  traits  of  her  char- 
acter, presented  in  this  and  the  preceding  chap- 
ters, we  here  insert  a  letter,  containing  reminis- 
cences of  Judith,  addressed  to  her  father  by  Mi'. 
Rhea,  of  Gawar,  some  time  after  her  death. 

"  With  melancholy  delight,  I  call  up  reminis- 
cences of  a  brief  but  very  happy  acquaintance 
with  your  beloved  Judith.  I  well  remember 
when  I  first  met  her,  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
her  young  companions,  moving  among  them  like 
a  tender  guardian  spirit,  inventing  for  them 
youthful  sports,  settling  their  petty  difficulties, 
and  diffusing  a  spirit  of  peace  and  joy,  through- 
out the  happy  circle. 

"  On  further  acquaintance,  I  saw  that  this 
spirit  of  tender  superintendence  and  guardian- 
ship, over  her  little  missionary  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, was  a  distinctive  trait  in  her  lovely  char- 
acter. 

"  During  the  few  months  spent  at  Seir,  being 
frequently  a  guest  under  your  hospitable  roof,  it 
was  my  privilege  to  become  quite  intimate  with 
Judith.     Her  uniformly  gentle,  happy,  and  social 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  83 

spirit,  her  uncommon  musical  talent,  the  skill 
and  taste  of  her  youthful  performances,  her  rapid 
progress  and  ardent  enthusiasm,  could  not  fail  to 
enlist  at  once  the  lively  interest  of  a  stranger. 
How  sweet  were  those  hours,  when,  led  by  Ju- 
dith, with  her  much  loved  seraphine,  we  sung 
the  songs  of  Zion!  They  were  ever  welcome 
and  joyful,  and  their  zest  was  not  a  little  en- 
hanced, to  see  with  what  fervor  of  spirit  and 
whole  souled  earnestness,  she  animated  every 
strain.  Judith  will  not  sing  with  us  here  again. 
She  will  not  come  to  us,  but  we  shall  go  to  her. 
The  'new  song'  she  has  learned  before  us,  and 
she  may  yet,  in  joyous  strains,  again  lead  our 
voices,  when  we  stand  with  her  around  the  throne 
of  God,  and  for  the  first  time  join  in  the  melody 
of  heaven. 

"  I  love  to  think  with  what  delight  and  char- 
acteristic energy  Judith  welcomed  the  suggestion 
of  a  missionary  association^  among  the  ciiildren 
of  the  mission.  Her  young  heart  could  not  con- 
tain its  ardor ;  but  she  felt  that  she  must  impart 
it  to  her  young  companions ;  and  the  first  Mon- 
day of  the  next  month  witnessed  the  assembly  of 
the  happy  children,  their  eyes  intently  gazing 
upon  the  map,  picturing  the  dark  homes  of  the 
poor  heathen,  and  their  little  hands  grasping  the 
coin,  earned  by  their  own  self-denial,  to  scatter 
over  those  dark  regions  the  beams  of  light  and 


84 

life  and  joy.  Judith  loved,  from  her  heart,  those 
little  missionary  gatherings.  She  loved  to  give 
that  whose  cost  she  felt;  and  we  fondly  hope, 
that  those  youthful  expressions  of  tender  sympa- 
thy for  the  perishing  nations  were  pledges  of  a 
life,  had  she  lived,  one  day  to  be  wholly  conse- 
crated to  their  eternal  welfare. 

"  An  absence  of  ten  months  again  brought  me 
to  Judith's  home.  A  marked  change  had  passed 
over  her.  Her  form  had  grown  tall  and  slender, 
her  mind  had  made  rapid  advances  in  knowledge, 
and,  under  the  moulding  influences  of  the  Divine 
Spirit,  we  hope  she  was  rapidly  preparing  for  the 
rest  of  heaven. 

"  I  was  delighted  and  surprised,  as  she  mod- 
estly referred  to  her  reading  and  studies  during 
the  past  year,  showing  me  several  large  volumes 
which  she  had  read,  and  relating  from  them,  in 
language  unusually  chaste  and  select,  for  one  of 
her  tender  years,  incidents  which  showed  that 
she  read,  not  to  beguile  the  passing  hour,  but  to 
enrich  her  mind  with  stores  of  abiding  wealth. 
One  who  then  saw  her  ruddy  cheek,  and  light, 
elastic  step,  would  have  little  thought  that  the 
silver  cord  would  so  soon  be  loosed.  Ah,  how 
soon  and  how  gently  was  it  loosed,  and  her  fet- 
tered spirit  freed,  to  bask  in  the  joyous  light  of 
heaven !  Thus  soon  did  the  night  come,  and  cast 
its  dark  mantle  over  the  sweet  joys  and  felicities 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  85 

of  our  earthly  intercourse !  Thus  soon  did  the 
morning  of  an  eternal,  blissful  day  dawn  on  Ju- 
dith's glad  spirit,  and  leave  us  in  tears  to  travel 
the  few  remaining  stages  of  this  weary  pilgrim- 
age, until  for  us  too,  if  faithful,  '  the  day  will 
break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away.' " 


CHAPTER   VII. 

AND   INTEREST. 

That  Judith  was,  all  her  life,  under  strong  re- 
ligious influence,  need  hardly  be  stated,  when  it 
is  recollected  that  she  grew  up  in  a  Christian 
mission.  In  addition  to  the  care  of  her  parents, 
and  especially  of  her  mother,  on  whom,  in  the 
ever  pressing  missionary  avocations  of  the  father, 
her  moral  as  well  as  intellectual  training  prima- 
rily devolved,  she  had  enjoyed  the  prayers,  the 
solicitude,  and  in  some  cases,  the  personal  relig- 
ious conversations  and  exhortations  of  her  pa- 
rents' associates ;  though  doubtless  to  a  less  ex- 
tent, than  if  it  had  been  apprehended  by  any, 
that  she  was  so  soon  to  be  removed  beyond  the 
reach  of  their  exertions. 

As  illustrations  of  the  kind  interest  of  those 
missionary  associates,  in  Judith's  salvation,  we 
here  insert  two  notes  addressed  to  her  by  Miss 
Fisk  and  Miss  Rice,  on  two  of  her  birthdays. 
The  first  one,  from  Miss  Fisk,  was  addressed  to 
her  on  her  eighth  birthday. 


THE   PERSIAN    FLOWER.  87 

"  Oroomiah,  Aug.  StJi,  1848. 

"  My  dear  Judith,  —  It  is  not  convenient  for 
me  to  accept  your  kind  invitation  to  spend  your 
birthday  with  you  ;  but  I  shall  often  think  of 
you,  and  hope  that  you  may  have  a  very  pleas- 
ant time  with  your  friends.  While  at  home,  I 
will  ask  God  to  bless  you,  and  make  you  one  of 
his  own  little  children^  before  another  birthday 
comes.  I  am  sure  that  you  do  not  think  you  are 
too  young  to  begin  to  love  the  Saviour.  Is  not 
eight  years  long  enough  to  live  in  sin?  Then 
will  you  not  give  all  the  rest  of  your  years,  be 
they  few  or  many,  to  Him  who  loves  little  chil- 
dren better  than  their  fathers  and  mothers  can 
love  them? 

"  With  this,  you  will  find  two  little  hair-bands, 
which  I  wish  you  to  accept  as  a  token  of  the 
pleasure  I  have  felt,  in  seeing  you  try  to  please 
your  mamma,  in  using  such  bands. 

"  My  kindest  love  to  your  papa  and  mamma, 
and  Henry,  and  many  a  kiss  to  your  sweet  little 
sister. 

"  Yours  in  love, 

"Fidelia  Fisk." 

The  following  note  from  Miss  Kice  was  ad~ 
dressed  to  Judith  on  her  eleventh  birthday.  It 
possesses  peculiar  interest,  as  having  been  foundj. 
after  her  death,  in  the  basket  she  used  to  hang; 


88  THE  PERSiAJf  flower;   or 

on  her  saddle  when  she  rode,  with  the  appear- 
ance of  having  been  often  perused. 

"  Gawar,  Awj.  Sth,  1851. 
"  My  dear  Judith,  —  I  have  just  been  writing 
Mrs.  Breath,  and  the  date  reminds  me,  that  this 
is  your  birthday.  I  will  indulge  my  inclination 
to  write  you  a  few  words.  I  hope  this  will  be  a 
happy  day  to  you,  and  that  this  year,  which  you 
have  now  commenced,  may  be  the  happiest  one 
of  your  life.  Do  you  know  the  sure  way  to  be 
happy  ?  I  long  to  have  you  know  how  sweet  it 
is  to  be  at  peace  with  God,  and  how  blessed  it 
is  to  have  the  Lord  Jesus  for  the  guide  of  your 
youth,  and  the  guide  of  your  life,  and  your  guide 
to  glory  at  last.  How  many  times  has  He  sent 
the  Spirit  to  you,  inviting  you  to  seek  a  home  in 
heaven !  Will  you  not  heed  those  gentle  whis- 
perings ?  Will  you  not  look  at  your  heart,  and 
see  how  much  you  need  just  such  a  Saviour 
as  Christ,  to  make  it  clean  ?  Will  you  not  pray, 
^  Create  within  me  a  clean  heart  ?  '  Is  hall  hope 
lo  hear  from  you,  when  the  messenger  returns. 
"  Your  true  friend, 

"M.   S.  Rice." 

The  following  is  Judith's  note,  in  reply  to  Miss 
Rice. 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  89 

"  Oroomkih,  Aug.  lotJi,  1851. 

"  Dear  Friend  and  Teacher,  —  I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you,  for  the  little  note  which 
you  was  so  kind  as  to  write  me  on  my  birth- 
day. I  think  I  must  tell  you  something  of  the 
entertainment  we  had  on  that  day.  In  the  after- 
noon, there  was  no  school.  At  dinner,  we  had 
company.  All  were  here,  except  Dr.  Wright, 
who  was  at  the  city.  We  took  tea  at  Mr.  Stod- 
dard's, and  spent  the  evening  there. 

"  We  have  a  very  pleasant  school,  [taught  a 
few  weeks  by  Mrs.  Coan].  Maps  hang  all 
around  the  room.  W^e  all  have  desks  except 
Alexander,  and  there  is  a  dunce-block  which 
stands  under  the  teacher's  table. 

"  Mrs.  Cochran  has  been  very  sick,  but  is  now 
better.  Sickness  and  death  are  always  at  hand. 
I  desire  that  in  this,  my  new  year,  I  may  be  a 
good  girl,  and  be  prepared  for  death. 

"  Accept  this  from  your  affectionate  pupil, 

"Judith   G.  Perkins.'^ 

Letters  from  Mr.  Rhea,  of  Gawar,  to  the  child- 
ren of  the  mission  at  Oroomiah,  had  also  deeply 
interested  Judith.  The  following  is  one  of  those 
letters. 

''Memikan,  Gawar,  Feb.  Uth,  1852. 
"  To  Judith  and  all  the  Children  : 

"  My  dear  Young  Friends,  —  It  is  now  getting 


90  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER  ;    OR 

late,  (Saturday  evening).  I  have  written  a  good 
deal,  to-day,  to  my  older  friends  at  Oroomiah, 
and  I  thought  I  could  not  let  the  messenger 
leave,  on  Monday  morning,  without  a  line  to  my 
little  friends,  of  whom  I  love  to  think,  and  for 
whom  I  love  to  pray. 

<'  I  would  like  to  have  you  all  come  up  to 
Gawar,  very  much.  I  think  you  would  be  pleased 
to  look  over  this  beautiful  plain,  and  upon  these 
great  mountains,  all  covered  with  snow.  The 
wolves  howl  very  much,  some  nights.  They 
come  quite  near,  sometimes  ;  but  you  would  not 
be  frightened  while  staying  in  the  house.  I 
think  you  would  like  to  see  the  little  girls  come 
into  Mrs.  Coan's  room,  so  clean  and  nice ;  I 
mean  their  faces ;  for  they  are  poor  little  girls, 
and  have  not  fine  clothes  ;  and  their  mothers  will 
not  wash  their  coarse  ones. 

"  I  think,  too,  you  would  like  to  go  into  the 
Dickana,  (the  elevated  part  of  the  stable,)  and 
see  the  little  boys,  reading  in  their  testaments. 
Each  one  has  a  little  sack  for  his  book,  and  before 
he  comes  to  school,  washes  his  hands  very  clean  ; 
and  some  of  them  have  as  many  as  two  or  three 
thumb  papers,  so  that  their  fingers  do  not  touch 
the  leaf  of  the  book  at  all. 

"  Sometimes  little  Joseph  and  Jenga  and 
Khamis  come  and  sit  down  on  the  floor,  by  my 
stove.  I  love  to  have  them  come  and  talk  with 
me.     They  have  all  learned  the  Lord's  prayer 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  9'! 

very  well;  and  Joseph  says,  that  he  and  his 
brother  Khamis  repeat  it,  every  morning  when 
they  rise,  and  every  evening  when  they  lie  down. 
Joseph  says,  too,  '  we  do  n't  revile  now,  since  we 
come  to  school  and  learn  to  read.  Our  mother 
reviles,  but  we  tell  her  not  to  revile ;  that  it  is 
wrong.'  They  are  the  sons  of  a  widow,  —  their 
father  having  died  several  years  ago.  They  are 
very  poor,  but  are  very  pretty  little  boys,  and  are 
learning  very  fast.  Would  you  not  like  to  teach 
such  little  boys  and  girls?  I  hope  that,  some 
day,  this  may  be  your  pleasant  work.  Would  it 
not  be  delightful  to  you,  to  meet  one  little  boy 
or  girl  in  heaven,  who  should  say  to  you,  '  you 
taught  me  to  read  the  word  of  God ;  you  told 
me  about  Jesus  ?  ' 

"  May  God  bless  each  one  of  you,  my  dear 
little  friends.  May  you  all  be  like  lambs,  in  the 
flock  of  Jesus  —  gentle,  and  kind,  and  harmless; 
and  may  you  all  be  very  happy  in  your  homes, 
in  your  studies,  and  in  your  little  plays  and 
sports  with  each  other.  A  kiss  to  each  of  you 
—  and  a  sweet  sleep  to-night,  and  a  happy  Sab- 
bath day  on  the  morrow. 

"  Ever  your  friend, 

"  S.  A.  Rhea." 

To  .Terusha  Stocking,  one  of  .Tndith's  little 
companions,  the  same  kind  friend  of  the  children 


92 

wrote,  about  the  same  time,  as  follows :  "  Sup- 
pose you  had  a  great  and  good  friend,  and  that 
every  time  you  entered  his  room,  he  would  smile 
upon  you  and  embrace  you  in  his  arms ;  and  if 
there  was  a  tear  in  your  eye,  wipe  it  away ;  or  if 
your  heart  was  swelling  with  grief,  soothe  and 
comfort  you ;  or  if  sick,  would  watch,  day  and 
night,  without  weariness,  at  your  bed-side,  giving 
you  healing  medicines.  Suppose  that  his  words 
were  always  kind  and  gentle,  and  that  whenever 
you  saw  him,  he  would  ask  you  if  there  was 
any  thing  you  would  like  to  have,  and  would  look 
upon  you  with  such  winning  love,  as  would  make 
you  ask  him  for  what  you  wished. 

"  Oh,  if  there  was  such  a  wonderful  friend, 
would  you  not  love  to  look  upon  his  face,  to  rest 
upon  his  bosom,  to  hear  his  gentle  words,  to  sit 
with  him,  to  walk  and  talk  with  him  ;  and  would 
you  not  go  very  often  to  his  room,  and  put  your 
hand  in  his,  and  ask  him  to  be  your  dear  father, 
and  friend,  and  guide  ?     Oh,  I  know  you  would. 

"But  there  is  such  a  great  and  kind  friend. 
Yes,  you  already  know  who  he  is;  Jesus,  the 
good  Shepherd,  so  gentle,  that  He  is  called  a 
Lamb  ;  so  strong,  that  He  is  called  a  Lion  ;  and 
so  loving,  that  He  is  called  the  '  altogether  lovely.' 

"'But  where  shall  you  find  him?'  perhaps 
yon  will  ask.  Why,  there  is  no  place  that  you 
can  go  where  he  is  not.  Only  fall  upon  your 
knees,  and  He  will  be  by  your  side. 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  »9 

"  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  found  this  dear 
Friend ;  and  at  last  I  learned,  that  wherever  I 
went,  He  went  with  me ;  and  that  I  could  not 
take  a  step  if  He  was  not  by  my  side ;  and  that 
His  kind  hand  had  given  me  every  good  thing 
that  I  had.  Then  I  was  sorry  that  I  had  never 
taken  notice  of  Him,  when  He  had  always  been 
so  near.  I  hope  that  you  will  not  grieve  Him  by 
such  treatment,  and  that  you  will  go  to  Him  and 
tell  Him  that  you  wish  to  love  Him  as  long  as 
you  live." 

In  some  of  her  notes  which  w^e  have  inserted, 
Judith  mentions  her  Sabbath  school.  She  was 
very  deeply  interested  in  this  Sabbath  school, 
which  was  under  the  care  of  Mrs.  Stoddard. 
The  exercises  consisted  of  a  psalm,  committed 
and  recited  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  by  each 
pupil,  and  a  hymn  by  each  one,  after  which  a 
parable,  or  some  other  passage  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, was  read  by  the  children  in  turn  and 
explained  by  the  teacher,  each  child  being  ques- 
tioned on  the  meaning.  "  The  Child's  Hymn 
Book,"  published  by  the  American  Tract  Society, 
was  the  one  from  which  the  pupils  usually 
selected  their  hymns.  Judith's  copy,  presented 
to  her  by  Miss  Rice,  and  doubly  prized  by  her 
for  the  giver's  sake,  has  a  great  many  of  the 
hymns  pencilled  at  the  top,  by  Mrs.  Stoddard, 
with  the  child's  initial,  and  a  number  indicating 


94  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

that  it  was  perfectly  recited.  This  book  is  among 
the  many  and  affecting  memorials  of  the  departed 
one,  that  now  meet  the  eyes  of  the  bereaved 
parents,  to  solace  their  stricken  hearts,  as  well  as 
remind  them  of  their  loss.  Her  fondness  for 
hymns  led  her  often  to  commit  two  for  the  Sab- 
bath school,  instead  of  one  as  required  for  her 
regular  lesson. 

Of  her  attendance  at  Sabbath  school,  Mrs. 
Stoddard  thus  speaks :  "  Judith  was  ever  per- 
fectly consistent  in  her  deportment.  Once'  or 
twice,  she  was  induced  to  smile,  by  the  levity  of 
one  of  her  companions ;  but  soon  the  blushing 
face  and  silent  tear  told  her  sorrow.  Her  lessons 
were  always  w^ell  prepared,  and  the  interest  she 
ever  manifested  made  it  a  pleasure  to  teach  her. 
Her  influence  in  the  school  was  very  happy  on 
the  other  pupils,  as  a  model,  inciting  them  to  cor- 
rect conduct  and  perfect  recitations." 

She  was  accustomed  to  recite  her  lessons,  once 
or  more,  to  her  mother,  before  going  to  Sabbath 
school,  and  she  often  repeated  many  of  the  hymns 
afterward,  in  the  family,  and  with  an  intensity 
of  interest  and  emotion,  that  beamed  most  im- 
pressively from  her  beautiful  eye,  and  irradiated 
her  whole  countenance  with  an  almost  unearthly 
fervor.  One  hymn,  which  is  remembered  by  her 
parents  as  often  thus  repeated,  is  the  following : 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  95 

"  Little  travellers,  Zion-ward, 

Each  one  entering  into  rest, 
In  the  kingdom  of  your  Lord, 

In  the  mansions  of  the  blest ; 
There  to  welcome,  Jesus  waits, 

Gives  the  ci'owns  liis  followers  win ; 
Lift  your  heads,  ye  golden  gates  ! 

Let  the  little  travellers  in ! 

"  "Who  are  they,  whose  little  feet. 

Pacing  life's  dark  journey  through, 
Now  have  reach'd  that  heavenly  seat. 

They  had  ever  kept  in  view  ? 
*  I,  from  Greenland's  frozen  strand ;  * 

*I,  from  India's  sultiy  plain;'' 
'  I,  from  Afric's  barren  sand ; ' 

'I,  from  islands  of  the  main/ 

" '  All  our  earthly  journey  past. 

Every  tear  and  pain  gone  by, 
Here  together  met  at  last. 

At  the  portal  of  the  sky. 
Each  the  welcome,  "  come,"  awaits, 

Conquerors  over  death  and  sin.' 
Lift  your  heads,  ye  golden  gates ! 

Let  the  little  travellers  in." 

The  juvenile  missionary  concert  at  Oroomiali 
has  also  been  mentioned.  This  too  was  a  mat- 
ter in  which  Judith  was  very  deeply  interested. 
It  was  commenced  by  Mr.  Rhea,  and  continued 
by  Mr.  Breath  after  Mr.  Rhea  removed  to  Gawar. 
The  money,  contributed  by  the  children,  is  de- 
voted to  the  support  of  a  Nestorian  missionary 
to  Bootan,  a  mountain  district  about  three  hun- 


96  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;     OR 

dred  miles  west  of  Oroomiah,  on  the  ancient 
river  Tigris,  where  the  poor,  scattered  Nestorians 
are  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd.  Judith  felt  a 
very  lively  concern  in  the  welfare  of  those  Nes- 
torians. She  was  not  only  willing,  but  happy  to 
deny  herself  of  as  many  table  comforts  as  her 
parents  would  allow  her  to  dispense  with,  as  also 
to  perform  any  domestic  tasks  assigned,  to  save 
money  for  the  missionary  concert,  and  thus  aid 
in  sending  them  the  gospel. 

Deacon  Gewergis,  the  "mountain  evangelist" 
of  Tergaver,  who  preaches  in  the  nearer  moun- 
tain districts,  frequently  visited  Judith's  home,  to 
report  his  tours  to  her  father,  who  had  the  par- 
ticular direction  of  his  labors.  The  good  man's 
visits  were  always  hailed  with  joy  by  Judith. 
Being  supported  by  the  avails  of  the  Nestorian 
monthly  concert  at  Seir,  to  which  she  edso  con- 
tributed, he  was  familiarly  called  by  her,  "  our 
missionary."  His  placid  smile  and  benignant 
countenance,  and  his  "  glad  tidings,"  could  be 
greeted  with  no  more  hearty  welcome  by  any 
member  of  the  mission,  than  they  were  by  that 
missionary  child.  To  cheer  the  w^ay-worn,  inde- 
fatigable evangelist's  heart,  and  remind  him  of 
his  promised  rest  in  heaven,  she  was  ever  de- 
lighted to  entertain  him,  a  few  minutes,  during 
each  visit,  with  a  sweet  piece  or  two  of  music 
on  the  seraphine. 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS.  97 

It  hardly  need  be  said,  that  this  mountain  mis- 
sionary was  very  deeply  afflicted  by  her  death. 
Silence,  and  suppressed  sobs,  were  the  only  ex- 
pression he  could  give  to  his  feelings,  for  a  long 
time,  on  visiting  her  saddened  home,  in  the  first 
instance,  after  that  event,  to  tender  his  sympathy 
to  the  bereaved  parents. 

Judith's  interest  in  the  cause  of  missions,  was 
of  early  growth.  When  quite  a  small  child,  she 
often  spoke  of  becoming  a  missionary^  and  was 
then  particularly  interested  in  China,  as  a  pro- 
spective field  of  labor.  And  to  the  last,  she  al- 
ways seemed  to  assume,  that  she  should  be  a 
missionary  somewhere,  if  her  life  were  spared. 
Reading  the  memoirs  of  female  missionaries,  as 
the  memoir  of  Harriet  Newell,  and  that  of  Mrs. 
Dwight  and  Mrs.  Grant,  and  of  Mrs.  Van  Lennep, 
and  others,  served  to  quicken  that  desire,  and 
strengthen  that  impression ;  and  her  circum- 
stances on  missionary  ground,  naturally  kept  the 
subject  fresh  before  her  mind.  She  said  to  some 
of  the  older  Nestorian  girls  of  the  seminary,  the 
last  time  she  ever  saw  them,  and  only  four  days 
before  her  death,  "  I  hope,  after  I  return  from 
Erzroom,  to  study  very  hard,  and  afterward  go 
to  America,  and  attend  school  awhile  there,  and 
then  return  and  be  a  missionary  here;  or,  I 
would  prefer  to  go  and  labor  where  there  are  no 
missionaries." 

7 


98  THE   PERSIAN   FLO^VER ;    OR 

In  an  important  sense,  Judith  had  long  been  a 
missionary  helper.  She  ever  manifested  a  very 
deep  interest  in  all  the  departments  of  the  good 
work  among  the  Nestorians,  and  sought  to  aid 
in  its  progress  in  every  way  in  her  power.  She 
•had  sat  patiently  many  an  hour,  and  assisted  her 
father  in  adjusting  the  verses  of  the  translation 
of  the  Bible  according  to  the  English  version  ; 
reading  the  latter  verse  by  verse  ;  and  she  sel- 
dom seemed  happier  than  when  aiding  him  in 
that  great  work,  which  she  longed  to  see  accom- 
plished. During  the  last  year  of  her  life,  she  as- 
sisted her  mother  in  teaching  a  few  Nestorian 
females  connected  with  the  Sabbath  school,  and 
.eagerly  engaged  in  the  loved  employment. 

The  female  seminary  was  the  department  of 
the  labors  of  the  mission,  in  which  she  seemed 
to  feel  the  deepest  interest.  She  often  visited  it, 
and  sometimes  pursued  her  studies,  a  few  days, 
in  connection  with  it,  lodging  with  her  kind 
friends.  Miss  Fisk  and  Miss  Rice,  and  being 
taugkt  by  them.  She  was  always  familiar  with 
the  names  of  the  thirty  or  forty  pupils,  and  in 
most  cases,  with  their  character  and  standing; 
and  she  ever  heartily  rejoiced  in  their  progress 
and  improvement.  None  could  feel  greater  de- 
light than  she  did,  in  marking  the  striking  and 
happy  change  in  them,  from  the  ignorant,  listless, 
and  ragged  girls,  —  their  mouths  "  full  of  cursing 


JUDITH  G.  PERKINS.  99 

and  bitterness  "  —  as  taken  from  their  homes,  to 
the  intelligent  and  refined  young  ladies,  and 
many  of  them  devotedly  pious,  under  the  divine 
blessing  on  a  few  years  of  arduous  missionary 
toil  expended  upon  them.  She  had  sometimes 
expressed  a  desire  to  become  qualified  to  teach 
in  that  favored  seminary. 

Judith  was  in  turn  ardently  loved  and  admired 
by  those  Nestorian  girls.  Many  of  them  emu- 
lated her  example  and  repeated  her  words  with 
most  affectionate  deference.  Their  grief,  on 
hearing  the  tidings  of  her  death,  was  almost  in- 
consolable. In  the  language  of  Miss  Fisk,  "  no 
event  has  ever  so  deeply  affected  them  as  Ju- 
dith's death." 

Let  not  the  friends  of  the  sacred  cause  in 
America  suppose  that  funds,  expended  on  such 
missionary  daughters,  are  lost  to  that  cause.  No 
mortal,  except  those  who  were  thus  favored,  can 
conceive  the  comfort,  solace,  and  support,  which 
she  afforded,  for  many  years,  to  her  toil-worn 
parents,  aside  from  her  active  exertions  to  relieve 
and  aid  them  in  their  domestic  cares  and  mis- 
sionary labors. 

Among  the  religious  influences,  which  strongly 
affected  Judith's  feelings  and  character,  should 
be  mentioned  the  removal  by  death  of  three  of 
her  brothers  and  her  two  sisters.  In  bereave- 
ments, as  in  all  the  economy  of  Divine  Provi- 


100  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

dence,  rich  and  precious  mercies  are  mingled 
with  severe  trials.  In  the  painful  experience  of 
not  a  few  parents,  it  has  doubtless  been  found, 
that  the  sore  "chastening"  of  parting  with  their 
offspring,  for  the  present  "  not  joyous  but  griev- 
ous," has  not  only  worked  in  them  "  the  peacea- 
ble fruits  of  righteousness,"  but  has  also  been 
the  means  of  spiritual  blessing  to  their  surviving 
children, 

Judith  was  accustomed  to  think  and  speak  of 
her  departed  brothers  and  sisters  as  living  in 
heaven.  She  remembered  and  noticed  their  re- 
turning birthdays,  kept  their  respective  ages, 
and  cherished  a  lively  hope  and  expectation  of 
dwelling  forever  with  them,  when  she  should  die. 
Such  an  anticipation,  long  and  fondly,  and  even 
earnestly  cherished,  could  not  fail  deeply  to 
strengthen  her  interest  in  eternal  things. 

Among  the  reminiscences  of  those  dear  de- 
parted ones,  which  interested  her,  was  a  sweet 
piece  of  poetry,  written  by  a  kind  missionary 
brother,  on  the  death  of  the  second  infant  child 
whom  her  parents  laid  in  the  grave,  in  the  form 
of  a  dialogue,  between  that  brother  and  an  infant 
sister  gone  before  him.  Judith  often  read  that 
piece  of  poetry ;  and  as  an  interesting  memento 
of  her,  in  regard  to  her  love  for  those  deceased 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  her  desire  to  be  with 
them  in  heaven,  we  here  introduce  it  entire. 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS.  101 

»  To  the  Rev.  J.  and  Mrs.  C.  B.  Perkins,  the 
following  lines  are  affectionately  inscribed  by 
their  sympathizing  missionary  brother, 

J.  L.  Merrick. 

Talreez,  July  2Sth,  1839. 

THE   INFANT'S    CALL. 

Brother  cherub,  come  away ! 

'  Tis  thy  sister  spirit  calls ;  — 
Join  our  blissful,  bright  array, 
"Where  the  sweetest  glory  falls. 
Around  tlie  Saviour's  blessed  throne. 
Who  for  us  infants  did  atone. 

Beauteous  angel,  let  me  stay, 
In  affection's  tender  arms  ; 
What  should  tempt  me  now  to  stray  ? 
Strangers  fill  me  with  alarms. 
O,  dost  thou  know  a  parent's  love. 
And  all  the  filial  joys  I  prove  ? 

Brother,  brother,  dost  thou  know. 

Who  it  is  that  calleth  thee  ? 
Thy  own  sister,  spared  all  woe, 
By  going  home  in  infancy ! 
Tliy  parents  are  my  parents  too, 
And  loves  were  ours,  as  now  with  you. 

Lovely  spirit,  can  it  be. 

Thou  so  beautiful  and  bright, 
Art  akin  the  least  to  me, 

Filled  with  pleasure  and  afiright  1 


102  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

Perfection  seeming  half  divine, 

Beams  awful  thro'  those  smiles  of  thine. 

Darling  brother,  do  not  fear, 

Gentler  than  a  mother's  care. 
Free  from  every  sigh  and  tear, 
Is  the  kindness  you  shall  share. 
And  all  that  in  me  now  you  see. 
Soon,  soon,  dear  brother,  thou  shalt  be. 

Angel,  what  will  brother  say. 

When  he  finds  that  I  am  gone  ! 
Who  will  cheer  him  day  by  day ; 
Meet  him  smiling  as  the  morn  ? 
Ah,  why  should  he  be  left  alone, 
And  I  removed  to  worlds  unknown ! 

Lovely  brother,  do  not  call 

Me  an  angel,  with  awed  tone  ; 
I  'm  thy  sister,  loving  all 

Thy  fond  heart  proclaims  its  own. 
You  need  not  love  our  dear  ones  less, 
For  sharing  heavenly  happiness. 

Lovely  sister,  is  it  true  1 

In  our  circle  then  remain ; 
We  will  share  our  joys  with  you  ; 
You  shall  lead  our  blooming  train. 
How  happy  then  we  all  shall  be, 
Sweet  seraph  sister,  here  with  thee. 

Well  I  know  the  silken  ties. 

Twining  round  your  little  band ; 
And  the  tide  of  sympathies. 
Flowing  full  on  every  hand. 
But,  know,  the  golden  chains  above. 
Are  infinite,  eternal  love  ! 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  lOS 

Dost  thou  know  how  near  our  birth  1 
Five  *  baptized,  one  blessed  hour ! 
Let  us  bloom  awhile  on  earth, 
Twining  in  affection's  bower. 
O  why  should  such  a  beauteous  wreath, 
So  soon  be  maiTcd  by  rathless  death  ? 

Dearest  brother,  I  was  there. 
With  an  infant  angel  band. 
Hymning,  in  the  hallowed  air, 
Him  who  baptism  did  command. 
Come !  we  '11  oft  return  and  see, 
The  dear  ones  now  detaining  thee. 

Dearest  sister,  much  inclined, 
Still  I  cling  to  those  below. 
Where  my  heart  has  fondly  twined ; 
Other  worlds  I  little  know. 
You  must  be  very  happy  there  ; 
Erelong  may  we  your  glory  share. 

Brother,  lift  thine  eyes  above  ! 

Seest  thou  Him  in  smiles  divine  ? 
Image  of  eternal  love ; 

0  how  sweet  his  glories  shine ! 
Behold,  he  comes,  what  raptures  swell, 
At  thy  approach,  Immanuel ! 

Sister,  bear  me  on  thy  wing  ; 

Let  us  meet  him  in  the  skies  ! 
Look  !  I  'm  like  thee  !  How  they  sing  ; 
Louder,  sweeter,  as  they  rise  ! 
Hail !  0  my  Saviour  and  my  Lord ! 
By  infant  hosts  untold  adored." 

*  Five  infant  children,  in  the  Nestorian  mission,  whose  births- 
occun-ed  within  a  few  weeks  of  each  other,  were  baptized  together.. 


104  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

Judith's  little  sister,  Fidelia,  the  last  of  the  two 
infants  whom  she  herself  followed  to  the  grave, 
died  three  and  a  half  years  before  her  own  death. 
She  most  ardently  loved  that  sister,  and  had  taken 
inexpressible  pleasure  in  tending  and  caressing 
her;  and  the  separation  made  a  much  more 
vivid  impression  on  her  mind,  than  the  death  of 
those  of  whom  she  had  only  heard,  and  of  the  one 
who  died  when  she  was  quite  small;  but  it  also 
gave  a  reality  and  an  interest  to  them  all,  in  her 
mind,  which  she  had  never  felt  before.  From 
that  time,  she  was  more  than  ever  in  the  habit  of 
thinking  and  speaking  of  her  five  brothers  and 
sisters  in  heaven,  as  a  united  group,  which  she 
and  her  parents  and  little  brother  still  on  earth, 
were  at  no  distant  period  to  join.  And  many  a 
time,  in  the  quiet  of  the  evening  hour,  and  under 
the  mild  glories  of  a  Persian  sky,  she  has  gone 
with  her  parents,  or  with  her  brother  Henry,  to 
Fidelia's  grave,  in  a  Nestorian  cemetery,  on  a 
beautiful  hill,  a  few  rods  from  her  home,  and 
there  thought  and  spoken  tenderly  of  that  loved 
iband,  in  the  world  of  bliss,  and  longed  to  be  with 
them. 

For  several  years  she  had  been  exceedingly 
anxious  to  go  to  Tabreez,  a  city  one  hundred  and 
forty  miles  distant  from  Oroomiah,  which  was 
the  first  residence  of  her  parents  in  Persia,  main- 
ly, so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  to  visit  the  grave 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  105 

of  her  sister  Charlotte,  their  first-born.  That  long 
and  fondly  anticipated  privilege  she  never  en- 
joyed ;  but  she  had  often  visited  the  little  graves 
of  her  three  brothers  in  the  city  of  Oroomiah, 
and  shed  the  tear  of  affection  over  them. 

But  of  all  subjects  and  objects,  interesting  to 
Judith,  the  Saviour  was  the  one  that  most  ten- 
derly affected  her  young  heart.  She  was  ordi- 
narily very  buoyant,  lively,  and  playful,  to  the 
close  of  her  life  ;  but  this  theme,  when  mentioned, 
would  ever  touch  and  engross  her  feelings,  and 
call  them  off  from  all  other  things.  She  was 
never  encouraged  by  her  parents,  or  others,  pub- 
licly to  profess  religion,  or  confidently  to  indulge 
the  hope  of  being  a  Christian  ;  but  her  whole  ap- 
pearance, during  the  last  few  months  of  her  life, 
was  such  as  strongly  to  warrant  that  hope  for  her ; 
and  had  she  lived,  she  would  probably  soon  have 
become  a  visible  member  of  Christ's  flock.  An 
earlier  and  more  definite  direction  of  her  thoughts 
to  such  a  profession,  might  doubtless  have  con- 
tributed more  rapidly  to  develop  and  mature  her 
religious  feelings  and  character.  Her  mother, 
who  ever  cultivated  an  intimate  acquaintance 
with  her  feelings,  has  generally  thought,  that  she 
gave  quite  satisfactory  evidence  of  piety,  from 
early  childhood. 

Many  interesting  incidents  come  to  the  remem- 
brance of  Judith's  parents,  since  her  death,  which 


106  THE    PEKSIAN    FLOWER!    OR 


occurred  during  the  last  few  months  of  her  life, 
and  which  are  now  recalled  as  indicating  the 
strong  current  of  her  thoughts  toward  heaven. 
On  the  last  night  of  her  last  year,  for  instance, 
she  proposed  to  her  mother  to  close  the  retiring 
year  and  commence  the  new,  in  prayer,  after  the 
manner  of  a  Methodist  watch-meeting.  This 
was  devoutly  done,  one  petition  offered  being, 
that  "  the  coming  year  might  be  the  best  year  of 
her  life." 

We  will  not  linger  to  multiply  such  incidents, 
but  may  remark  in  general,  that  her  peculiarly 
subdued,  lovely  spirit  and  demeanor,  during  those 
last  months,  observed  by  others  as  well  as  by  her 
parents,  and  the  deep  interest  which  she  mani- 
fested in  the  religious  exercises  of  reading  the 
Scriptures  and  prayer,  with  her  mother,  especially 
so  during  that  period ;  and  most  of  all,  her  won- 
derfully interesting  appearance  on  her  death-bed, 
yet  to  be  described,  all  point  to  an  inward,  pro- 
gressive work  of  preparation  for  her  last  conflict, 
of  which  none  were  perhaps  fully  aware,  till  it 
was  strikingly  and  delightfully  developed  in  the 
trying  ordeal. 

In  looking  over  her  books  and  papers,  a  short 
time  after  her  death,  her  parents  found  on  her 
slate,  on  which  she  was  accustomed  to  write 
notes  for  copying,  the  following  lines :  "  O  that 
I  were  a  Christian !     How  happy  I  should  be  ! 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  107 

How  happy  my  dear  mother  would  be!  And 
would  it  not  be  pleasing  to  God  ?  Whi/  am  I  not 
one?^^  This  pencilling  had  no  date,  but  was 
probably  written  not  long  before  the  commence- 
ment of  the  journey  on  which  she  died ;  and  these 
were  perhaps  the  last  sentences  she  ever  wrote. 
He  who  will  not  break  the  bruised  reed,  nor 
quench  the  smoking  flax,  had,  we  doubt  not,  re- 
garded her  earnest  desire  here  expressed,  (though 
by  no  means  now  felt  for  the  first  time,)  to  be  a 
lamb  of  His  flock,  and  adopted  her  among  the 
chosen  of  his  fold.  Her  change,  as  in  all  cases 
of  conversion,  was  of  course  instantaneous ;  but 
its  precise  date  she  may  not  have  been  able  to 
specify  ;  and  its  outward  development,  as  is  often 
the  case,  especially  in  one  of  so  lovely  a  temper- 
ament and  character  by  nature,  was  gradual,  like 
the  rising  light. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


JUDITH'S   LAST  JOURNEY. 


In  the  foregoing  pages,  we  have  often  spoken 
of  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  as  little  Judith. 
Liability  to  a  mistaken  impression,  in  regard  to 
her  size,  from  the  use  of  that  term,  should  per- 
haps again  be  mentioned,  though  forestalled  in 
the  preface.  She  was  large  of  her  age.  Though 
but  a  little  more  than  twelve  years  old,  she  had 
reached  the  height  of  about  five  feet,  being  nearly 
as  tall  as  several  of  the  ladies  of  the  mission. 
She  was  of  a  delicate  form,  and  regular  and  very 
comely  features,  united  with  singular  ease,  grace, 
and  gentle  dignity  of  manners ;  her  whole  per- 
son and  appearance  being  that  of  remarkable 
symmetry  and  maturity,  which  were  the  true 
index  of  her  mind  and  heart  and  entire  charac- 
ter. 

Of  her  appearance  when  she  started  on  her 
last  journey,  Mrs.  Stoddard  writes  as  follows: 
"  Her  womanly  bearing  on  the  day  she  left  us, 
was  remarked  by  many.  In  her  kind  atten- 
tions to  her  mother,  her  care  for  her  brother,  and 


cc  xwrrve  years. 


THE   PERSIAN    FLOWER.  109 

her  farewells  to  her  little  companions,  one  would 
not  have  recognized  the  girl  of  only  twelve  years. 
Methinks  I  see  her  now,  as  she  went  with  light 
footsteps  to  this  room  and  that,  looked  into  this 
bag,  or  opened  that  trunk,  to  be  sure  that  every 
thing  was  placed  as  her  mother  had  directed; 
then  I  hear  her  sweet  voice,  speaking  of  her 
bright  anticipations  of  her  journey,  the  pleasure 
she  would  receive  from  meeting  new  friends ;  and 
see  the  sparkle  of  her  eye,  as  one  scene  after 
another  came  before  her  imagination.  Then, 
after  the  tearful  'good  by,'  how  nimbly  she 
glided  into  the  carriage,  to  ride  to  the  city,  pre- 
paratory to  mounting  her  pony,  over  which  she 
had  more  command  than  many  of  twice  her 
years." 

A  member  of  the  mission  remarked,  after  her 
death,  that  "had  Judith  known,  when  she  left 
her  home  and  started  on  her  last  journey,  that 
she  should  never  return,  her  whole  appearance 
could  not  have  been  more  interesting,  or  more 
grateful  to  the  recollection  of  those  from  whom 
she  then  parted." 

The  last  affecting  scenes  of  Judith's  short  life, 
which  we  now  approach,  we  shall  give  mainly 
from  the  touching  letter  of  Miss  Fisk  to  Mrs. 
Reed,  already  quoted,  and  from  a  concise  memo- 
randum from  the  pen  of  her  father,  sometimes, 
for  convenience,  combining  passages  from  the 


110 


two,  which  refer  to  the  same  subject.  Miss  Fisk 
says  :  "  It  would  have  been  a  great  comfort  to  all 
our  circle,  if  this  loved  one  hajd  died  with  us,  and 
we  have  been  permitted  to  ease  one  sorrow,  when 
the  pangs  of  death  took  hold  upon  her.  It  would 
have  been  a  sweet  privilege  to  us,  to  have  caught 
the  last  accents  that  quivered  on  those  lips,  and 
standing  beside  the  swelling  stream,  seen  her,  as 
it  were,  pass  over,  and  join  the  happy  ones,  calling 
'  Sister  spirit,  come  away.'  But  this  might  not 
be.  As  if  it  were  not  enough  for  the  little  pil- 
grim, that  she  had  twice  crossed  the  wide  waters? 
been  borne  once  and  again  over  the  rugged  moun- 
tains of  Armenia,  and  stood  on  the  dizzy  heights 
of  Koordistan,  she  must  leave  us,  and  die  in  a 
strange  place.  The  tender  parents  and  loved 
brother  were  by  that  dying  bed ;  but  no  mission- 
ary brother  or  sister  might  whisper  to  the  afflicted 
ones,  '  Jesus  is  a  present  help.'  Ah,  why  must 
it  have  been  so  ?  When  we  think  of  it,  we  can 
only  feel,  that  the  Saviour  would  show  to  this 
dear  brother  and  sister,  that  His  love  and  His 
grace  were  sufficient,  in  walking  through  the 
fiery  furnace. 

"  You  will  ask,  what  called  these  friends  from 
the  circle  who  love  them  here  ?  The  approach 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crane,  and  little  Sarah  Stoddard 
made  it  necessary  that  some  one  should  go  to 
Erzroom,  and  help  them  on  their  way.     Provi- 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  Ill 

dence  seemed  to  point  to  Mr.  Perkins  as  the  one 
to  go.  He  at  first  shrank  from  it;  nor  did  we 
wonder,  when  we  recollected  how  many  toilsome, 
not  to  say  perilous,  journeys,  he  had  performed. 
Mrs.  Perkins's  health  had  for  some  time  been 
very  poor,  and  we  had  all  felt,  that  a  change  in 
her  case  was  strongly  called  for.  We  hoped  that 
a  journey  to  Erzroom  might  benefit  her,  and 
it  was  recommended  to  Mr.  Perkins,  by  our 
whole  mission,  that  he  should  take  his  family 
with  him.  .Judith  and  Henry  were  particularly 
happy,  in  the  anticipation  of  the  journey.  They 
thought  of  meeting  little  Sarah  Stoddard,  from 
whom  they  had  been  separated  by  so  painful  a 
providence ;  and  Judith  exceedingly  longed  to 
look  on  old  Ararat's  snow  capped  summit,  and  to 
feel  that  she  was  near  the  spot  where  righteous 
Noah  once  dwelt.  Dear  child ;  she  saw  the  good- 
ly mountain  from  afar ;  and  then,  as  we  believe, 
went  up  to  the  sacred  hills  of  light,  to  be  forever 
with  the  Holy  patriarch. 

"  A  few  days  before  the  time  fixed  for  leaving, 
Mrs.  Perkins  became  very  unwell;  and  the 
parents  were  full  of  doubts,  in  regard  to  leaving 
their  home.  Judith  nursed  her  mamma  most 
tenderly,  and  begged  her  not  to  relinquish  the 
idea  of  going,  saying  that  she  could  and  would 
relieve  her  of  all  care.  Her  feelings  greatly  helped 
her  parents  to  feel  happy  in  undertaking  the 
journey." 


112  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER  ;     OR 

The  commencement  of  the  journey,  we  give 
in  the  language  of  the  memorandum  of  Judith's 
father. 

"  On  Monday,  the  30th  of  August,  1852,  I 
started  with  my  beloved  family,  to  meet  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Crane  and  little  Sarah  Stoddard,  at  Erzroom. 
I  had  felt  a  great  reluctance  to  undertake  the 
journey,  having  often  been  over  the  long  and 
weary  road,  and  being  very  desirous  that  the 
printing  of  the  Old  Testament  should  not  again 
be  interrupted.  The  prevalence  of  cholera  at 
Oroomiah  during  the  summer,  from  which  we 
had  been  graciously  preserved  at  our  health  re- 
treat, had  also  created  in  my  mind  a  mysterious 
misgiving  at  the  idea  of  separating  myself,  or 
seeing  any  other  one  separated,  at  such  a  time, 
from  the  society  of  our  missionary  circle,  not 
knowing  what  a  day  might  bring  forth.  That 
feeling,  which  I  sometimes  chided  in  myself  as 
a  weakness,  I  was  nevertheless  quite  unable  to 
banish.  But  when  the  mission  finally  appointed 
me  to  go,  as  no  other  member  seemed  to  find  it 
practicable  to  do  so,  and  with  the  understanding 
that  I  should  take  my  family  for  the  benefit  of 
Mrs.  Perkins's  health,  I  was  reconciled  to  the 
arrangement,  and  even  enjoyed  the  prospect  of 
the  journey,  experiencing  a  peculiar  relief,  in  sur- 
rendering my  own  judgment  and  preference  to 
the  general  decision. 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  113 

"  Mrs.  Perkins  and  our  children  rode  to  the  city 
with  Mr.  Stoddard,  in  the  carriage.  Accom- 
panied a  short  distance  out  of  the  city,  by  Messrs. 
Wright,  Breath,  and  Cochran,  on  horseback,  we 
proceeded,  and  reached  the  bridg-e,  three  hours 
distant,  just  at  dark,  all  of  us  having  greatly  en- 
joyed the  horseback  ride  over  the  charming  plain. 
There  we  passed  a  comfortable  night,  and  start- 
ing with  the  dawn, 

"  Aug.  Slst,  we  reached  Gavalan  between  nine 
and  ten  o'clock,  a.  m.  Mr.  Stocking  met  us  a 
few  miles  out  of  the  village,  with  his  waggon, 
and  took  in  Mrs.  Perkins  and  the  children.  We 
passed  a  most  delightful  and  refreshing  day  at 
Gavalan,  in  the  bosom  of  our  kind  friends  there, 
and  completed  some  arrangements  for  the  jour- 
ney." 

Of  the  travellers'  stop  at  Gavalan,  Miss  Fisk 
says,  "  I  was  at  the  time  with  Mr.  Stocking's 
family,  and  it  was  to  us  a  most  delightful  privi- 
lege to  have  them  spend  most  of  Tuesday  and 
the  following  night  with  us.  We  spoke  of  the 
pleasure  the  visit  had  given  us,  on  the  succeeding 
days ;  but  we  little  thought,  nay,  we  thought  not 
at  all,  that  it  was  our  last  visit  with  Judith,  till 
we  should  commune  with  her  in  'heavenly 
places.'  We  were  all  deeply  interested  in  the 
dear  girl.  She  was  lively  and  happy ;  and  yet 
she  seemed  to  us  to  have  a  kind  of  chastened 
8 


114  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;     OR 

joy,  and  a  peculiar  sweetness.  For  every  little 
kindness  she  was  very  grateful ;  and  I  remem- 
ber, just  before  she  left  us,  she  asked  me  in  a 
whisper, '  Do  you  think  that  I  have  ever  thanked 
Mrs.  Stocking  as  I  ought,  for  her  kindness  to  me, 
when  I  was  here  last  summer  ? '  When  I  told 
her  I  thought  she  had,  she  said,  '  I  am  very  glad 
if  I  have;  but  if  you  are  not  sure,  I  want  to  do 
it  before  I  go  away.'  In  every  thing,  she  seemed 
peculiarly  thoughtful  and  tender  of  others ;  and 
her  short  stay  with  us  confirmed  us  in  the  im- 
pression, that  the  last  few  months  had  wrought 
a  great  change  in  her. 

"  Our  dear  friends  left  Gavalan,  "Wednesday 
morning,  September  1st,  a  happy  family,  and 
with  the  prospect  of  a  pleasant  journey.  We 
heard  nothing  from  them  till  Sabbath  evening. 
Then  a  letter  was  handed  to  us,  which,  when 
opened,  almost  overwhelmed  us.  It  was  a  pen- 
cilled one,  written  from  Zorava^  a  Mohammedan 
village  about  one  third  of  the  way  from  Oroo- 
miah  to  Erzroom,  on  the  afternoon  of  September 
3d,  and  contained  these  sad  words  :  '  I  write  you 
in  deep  waters.  Our  precious  Judith  is  just 
gone  of  cholera.  She  w^as  taken  about  one  o'clock 
to  day,  within  three  or  four  miles  of  this  place. 
I  can  say  no  more.  The  precious,  dying  one  is 
in  my  arms.  Pray  send  to  the  city,  and  come 
and  meet  us.     Farewell.     J.  Perkins.'     I  will 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  115 

not  stop  to  tell  you  of  our  feelings,  but  return  to 
our  dear  pilgrim  friends,  now  indeed  in  '  deep 
waters.' " 

We  here  turn  from  Miss  Fisk's  letter  to  the 
father's  memorandum,  as  being  more  full. 

"  Sept.  1st,  We  left  our  dear  friends  at  Gava- 
lan,  near  nine  o'clock,  a.  m.  Mr.  Stocking  again 
carried  Mrs.  Perkins,  Judith,  and  Henry,  a  few 
miles,  in  his  waggon,  to  help  them  on  their  way, 
that  they  might  thus  be  gradually  initiated  to 
long  stages  on  their  saddles.  Our  ride  over  the 
high  mountain,  between  the  province  of  Oroo- 
miah  and  Salmas,  was  delightful.  Judith  was 
greatly  interested  in  the  charms  of  the  wild  and 
rural  scenery,  and  the  beauties  of  every  object  of 
nature.  The  stage  of  about  thirty  miles  was 
performed  with  gi-eat  ease  and  comfort  to  the 
whole  party.  At  Yavshanly,  where  we  stopped 
on  the  plain  of  Salmas,  not  far  from  the  north- 
west corner  of  the  lake,  we  had  a  nice  place  for 
our  tent,  on  a  green  meadow  near  shade  trees, 
and  were  in  every  respect  most  comfortable,  dur- 
ing the  afternoon  and  night. 

"  We  started  the  next  morning,  September  2d, 
a  little  after  dawn.  We  halted  to  rest,  a  few 
moments,  on  the  top  of  the  mountain  which  sep- 
arates the  plain  of  Salmas  from  that  of  Khoy- 
Judith  ran  up  a  hill-side,  to  obtain  a  last  view  of 
the  lake,  precisely  where  the  late  Mrs.  Stoddard 


116  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER  ;     OR 

lingered,  about  four  years  before,  for  the  same 
purpose,  the  last  time  she  ever  saw  it,  and  only 
about  a  month  before  she  died  of  cholera  at  Tre- 
bizond.  Every  object  on  the  way  seemed  to 
possess  the  deepest  interest  to  Judith,  even  the 
bare,  sterile  mountains ;  and  her  enjoyment 
seemed  inexpressible.  The  isolated  mountain  of 
salt  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  tomb  of  the  Mo- 
bammedan  saints,  perched  on  a  lofty  eminence, 
-on  the  other,  were  among  the  things  that  en- 
gaged her  attention,  in  turn,  and  beguiled  the 
sameness  of  the  long  and  weary  ride. 

"  I  often  inquired,  on  the  road,  whether  there 
'was  dioJera  at  Khoy,  and  was  as  often  strongly 
•assured  there  was  none  ;  and  being  informed, 
that  the  arrangement,  requiring  passports,  at  the 
boundary,  would  henceforth  be  rigorously  en- 
forced, I  took  the  route  by  the  town,  to  obtain 
such  papers.  We  reached  Khoy  about  midday, 
fifter  a  ride  of  more  than  thirty  miles,  and  passed 
around  to  the  Erzroom  gate,  where  we  sat  down 
a  half  hour  under  an  umbrella,  just  without  the 
walls,  till  our  tent  was  pitched.  We  passed  the 
afternoon  very  agreeably,  the  only  annoyance  we 
experienced,  arising  from  the  crowds  that  flocked 
around  us  to  gratify  their  curiosity.  At  evening, 
persons  came  to  us  requesting  medicine  for  chol- 
era,  which  startled  us,  as  it  assured  us  that  the 
disease  was  there." 


JUDITH   G.   PERKIXS.  117 

We  here  return  to  Miss  Fisk's  letter.  "  They 
saw  that  they  were  breathing  pestilential  air,  and 
were  where,  perhaps,  many  were  falling.  There 
was  no  alternative,  however,  but  to  spend  the 
night.  They  committed  themselves  to  Israel's 
Keeper,  and  lay  down  to  rest.  A  broad,  hot 
plain  was  before  them  ;  and  anxious  to  avoid 
the  heat,  they  arose  very  early  the  next  morning. 
They  had  worship,  at  which  Judith  repeated 
from  memory  the  54th  Psalm,  the  same  which 
she  had  recited  at  Sabbath  school,  on  the  pre- 
vious Sabbath  ;  and  after  taking  a  cup  of  coffee, 
they  commenced  their  ride  at  three  o'clock.  The 
bright  moon  was  several  hours  above  the  hori- 
zon ;  and  the  slight  haze  of  the  cholera  atmos- 
phere, mingling  with  its  mild  rays,  shed  a  peculiar 
softness  over  the  charming  scenes  always  pre- 
sented on  the  beautiful  plain  of  Khoy,  giving  to 
them  an  almost  unearthly  hue.  All  seemed  well, 
and  Judith  enjoyed  that  morning's  ride  exceed- 
ingly, as  she  had  all  her  journey.  She  looked 
with  peculiar  delight  on  the  morning  star,  and 
on  the  rising  sun,  now  rising  on  her  for  the  last 
time ;  or  rather,  before  another  morning,  to  be 
swallowed  up  in  the  brighter  rays  of  the  '  sun  of 
righteousness,'  and  she  to  go  where  she  may  for^ 
ever  gaze  on  '  the  bright  and  morning  star '  of* 
the  seed  of  David.  As  I  tell  you  of  the  events 
of  the  day   and   night  that  followed,   you  wilH 


118  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;   OR 

thank  our  God  anew,  that  he  hides  the  future 
from  his  children. 

"  After  crossing  the  plain  of  Khoy,  a  lofty- 
mountain  lay  before  them,  which  is  crossed  by  a 
gradual  ascent  of  ten  miles.  When  about  half 
way  up  the  mountain,  they  halted  for  breakfast, 
it  being  about  an  hour  after  sunrise.  On  the 
top  of  this  mountain,  they  had  a  view  of  the 
summit  of  Mount  Ararat,  a  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant. Judith  was  filled  with  ecstasy  at  the 
longed  for  sight,  and  would  have  left  it  reluc- 
tantly, but  for  the  hope  of  enjoying  a  nearer  view 
in  due  time.  She  seemed  to  her  parents  to  be 
very  well,  and  in  unusually  good  spirits.  She 
dismounted  with  the  others,  to  walk  down  the 
steep  descent,  for  some  distance.  Now  in  sight 
of  the  sacred  mountain,  her  joy  was  so  great,  that 
she  must  run  and  leap,  and  was  the  first  down. 
As  the  others  came  up  with  her,  she  smilingly 
said,  '  Mamma,  did  you  see  me  run  ? '  She  and 
Henry  had  sung  together  on  the  road,  and  if 
perchance  a  flower  nestled  in  autumnal  shades, 
it  shared  her  loving  look,  as  did  each  object  of 
nature  on  that  last  morning. 

"  After  descending  the  other  side  of  the  moun- 
tain, which  is  much  less  than  the  ascent  on  this 
;side,  the  little  company  stopped  again  for  some 
jefreshment.  On  every  face  sat  a  happy  smile, 
and  all  wished  that  the  friends  left  behind  could 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  119 

know  how  well  and  happy  they  were.  Dear 
friends!  They  little  knew  what  sad  messages 
they  would  be  called  upon  to  send  us,  in  a  few 
hours  more !  They  had  proceeded  but  a  few 
miles  from  this  last  resting  place,  when  Judith 
spoke  of  not  being  well;  and  her  pale  face 
showed  more  plainly  than  her  words  expressed, 
that  she  was  a  sufferer.  Vomiting  and  purging 
followed,  which  led  her  parents  to  feel  very  anx- 
ious in  regard  to  her;  and  they  would  have 
stopped  at  once,  but  their  tent  had  gone  forward. 
They  could  not  rest  under  the  burning  sun,  and 
there  was  no  water  near.  They  were  therefore 
obliged  to  proceed  three  or  four  miles  farther,  to 
the  village  of  Zorava.  Their  anguish,  as  they 
trod  that  weary  way,  may  be  imagined,  but  not 
described.  Judith  grew  sicker  and  sicker,  and 
the  symptoms  of  that  fearful  disease,  the  cholera^ 
more  and  more  marked.  It  was  with  difficulty 
that  she  reached  the  tent ;  and  as  she  was  lifted 
from  her  horse,  in  a  state  of  great  exhaustion, 
will  you  wonder,  that  the  parents  almost  sunk, 
under  the  sad  prospect  before  them,  in  the  lonely, 
inhospitable  village  of  Zorava  ?  Can  you  realize 
the  sorrow  of  your  and  our  friends,  on  that  day, 
far  away  from  their  loved  home,  and  with  scarce 
a  comfort  for  a  sick  and  dying  one  ?  These  were 
bitter  hours  to  them,  and  rendered  doubly  so,  by 
the  unkind  Mohammedan  villagers,  who  would 


120  THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER. 

not  allow  a  morsel  of  bread  to  be  sold  to  the 
faithful  Nestorians  who  accompanied  the  family, 
nor  even  barley,  for  their  tired,  hungry  horses. 
And  more ;  when  the  limbs  of  our  dear  Judith 
were  cold,  and  even  stiffening  under  the  power 
of  the  deadly  disease,  they  would  not  sell  one 
stick  of  wood  to  warm  water  for  her  ;  but  once 
and  again  ordered  the  heart-stricken  travellers  to 
leave  the  village  with  their  dying  child.  May  the 
rejected  Saviour  forgive  those  followers  of  the 
false  prophet ;  for  they  knew  not  what  they  did ! 
"  The  bitter  cup  was  closely  pressed  to  the 
lips  of  our  friends,  on  that  afternoon  ;  but  its  in- 
gredients were  not  all  wormwood  and  gall.  He, 
who  tasted  sorrow  for  us,  was  there,  and  the  sick 
one  was  calm  as  a  summer's  evening.  She  had 
not  a  fear  in  regard  to  the  result ;  not  one  com- 
plaining exclamation  to  make.  During  the  whole 
afternoon,  she  was  perfectly  conscious,  her  mind 
clear,  and  working  with  more  than  its  wonted 
vivacity  and  energy ;  while  her  countenance, 
beaming  with  rays  divine,  lighted  that  lonely 
tent." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

PKOGRESS   OF  THE   DISEASE,   AND   DEATH. 

We  now  return  to  the  father's  memorandum, 
for  a  more  particular  account  of  the  progress  of 
Judith's  disease,  and  her  feelings  in  the  near 
prospect  of  death.  He  says  :  "  On  arriving  at  the 
tent,  my  anxiety  was  intense,  which  Judith  must 
have  perceived,  but  she  was  not  at  all  agitated 
by  it,  and  only  remarked  quietly,  '  I  wish  Dr. 
"Wright  was  here.'  As  soon  as  possible,  I  opened 
our  medicines,  and  gave  her  laudanum ;  but  she 
very  soon  vomited.  We  gave  her  camphor, 
which  was  also  thrown  off;  and  there  were  fre- 
quent purgings.  No  doubt  could  remain,  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  disease.  The  word,  cholera^ 
had  not  been  mentioned  in  her  hearing;  but  Ju- 
dith now  meekly  inquired,  '  Papa,  do  you  think 
it  is  cholera  ?  '  She  was,  however,  still  perfectly 
calm  and  composed,  though  aware  of  my  appre- 
hensions, having  evidently  been  prepared  for  this 
trying  hour,  by  the  grace  of  God. 

"  The  disease  moved  on,  like  a  giant,  with 
irresistible  force.      The  frequent  and  abundant 


122  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

doses  of  camphor  and  soda,  which  we  admmis- 
tered,  produced  not  the  slightest  perceptible  ef- 
fect, and  the  vomiting,  in  some  instances,  much 
distressed  her. 

"  Soon  after  reaching  the  tent,  I  requested  Ju- 
dith to  fix  her  eye  and  her  heart  right  on  the 
cross  of  Christ,  and  keep  them  there ;  to  which 
she  replied,  calmly  and  firmly,  '  I  will  try,  papa.' 
I  frequently  repeated  the  same  direction,  and  re- 
ceived the  same  reply.  With  her  eyes  often 
closed,  she  was  obviously  thus  engaged ;  while 
I,  in  my  solicitude  and  anguish,  could  not  sup- 
press audible,  ejaculatory  prayer,  a  good  deal  of 
the  time. 

"  After  administering  laudanum  twice,  in  my 
haste  I  set  down  the  very  small  vial  containing 
it,  among  other  things  in  our  deranged  tent,  and 
could  never  afterwards  find  it,  though  I  searched 
the  tent  over  and  over,  with  an  anxiety  amount- 
ing almost  to  distraction.  In  the  absence  of 
laudanum,  I  administered  all  the  paregoric  which 
we  had  on  hand,  which  doubtless  did  as  well  as 
laudanum  would  have  done;  but  in  those  cir- 
cumstances, I  could  hardly  forgive  myself  for  not 
having  kept  the  laudanum  bottle  in  my  hand. 

"  Mrs.  Perkins,  who  had  never  before  wit- 
nessed a  case  of  cholera,  and  was  at  first  not  so 
sure  as  I,  that  sach  was  the  disease,  tried  to  quiet 
my  feelings,  for  some  time,  till  she  too  saw  un- 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  123 

mistakable  signs  of  the  awful  reality.  We  con- 
tinued to  administer  camphor,  and  soda  water, 
the  latter  being  very  grateful  as  a  drink  to  the 
dear  sufferer,  who  was  parching  of  thirst. 

"  By  this  time,  our  two  Nestorian  attendants, 
and  the  Mohammedan  muleteer,  were  gazing  into 
our  tent,  with  surprise  and  deep  concern.  The 
disease  still  rapidly  advancing,  like  a  strong  man 
armed,  I  despaired  of  its  being  arrested,  and  di- 
rected Hormezd,  (one  of  the  Nestorian  attend- 
ants,) to  try  to  find  a  messenger  for  Oroomiah. 
He  found  a  man  who  promised  to  go,  and  with 
Judith  in  my  arms,  I  scratched  the  line  which  I 
afterwards  forwarded.  Mrs.  Perkins  said  to  Ju- 
dith, '  We  are  going  to  send  home ;  would  you 
like  to  see  Dr.  Wright?'  'O  what  joy!'  was 
her  expressive  reply.  But  the  villagers,  in  their 
fright  at  the  cholera,  suddenly  brought  so  near 
them,  now  interposed,  and  forbade  any  one  going 
as  our  messenger. 

"  All  this  time,  Judith  maintained  perfect 
calmness,  and  enjoyed  peculiar  clearness  of 
mind,  as  she  did  indeed  throughout,  evidently 
leaning  on  more  than  a  mortal  arm.  Once  when 
I  asked  her,  '  Dear  Judith,  is  Jesus  precious  to 
you  V  '  O  yes,'  she  replied  ;  '  I  have  just  had  a 
view  of  Him ;  O  how  lovely  I '  What  a  balm 
was  that  reply  to  our  writhing  hearts !  At  an- 
other time,  I  inquired,  '  Dear  Judith,  have  you  a 


124 


desire  to  get  well  ? '  She  replied,  '  O,  yes,  papa 
if  it  be  God's  will.'  '  Why,  dear  Judith  ? '  I  in 
quired.  '  That  I  may  do  good,'  she  answered 
*  And  if  it  is  His  will  to  take  you  now  to  Him 
self,  are  you  not  satisfied  ?  '  I  inquired.  '  O  yes 
papa;  His  will  be  done,'  was  her  reply. 

"  Once  she  broke  the  silence  by  saying,  '  If  I 
die,  mamma,  you  will  bury  me  by  the  side  of 
Fidelia,  will  you  not  ? '  '  O  yes,  dear  Judith,' 
was  the  answer.  Our  great  distance  —  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  miles  —  from  home,  naturally 
raised  the  inquiry  in  her  mind,  whether  she  could 
be  carried  on  horseback  and  buried  by  the  loved 
one  of  her  departed  brothers  and  sisters,  who  had 
last  died. 

"  About  this  time,  Henry,  who  from  sadness 
had  been  long  outside,  came  into  the  tent  in 
great  anguish,  and  exclaimed,  '  O  Judith,  my 
dear  sister,  I  am  afraid  yon  will  die ;  you  look 
as  though  you  would  die.  O  dear  sister  Judith, 
what  shall  I  do?'  crying  convulsively.  Judith 
gazed  on  him  earnestly,  and  with  yearning  ten- 
derness, but  without  agitation.  Her  mamma  in- 
quired, 'Dear  Judith,  what  do  you  wish  to  say 
to  Henry?'  'O  that  he  may  be  a  Christian; 
and  a  good  boy,  and  mind  his  parents  in  every 
thing ;  and  stand  up  straight ; '  was  her  reply. 
The  last-named  point  had  been  repeatedly  men- 
tioned in  her  hearing,  when  in  health.     Her  ref- 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  125 

erence  to  it,  naturally  suggests,  how  the  smallest 
matters  of  conduct  assume  an  importance,  in  the 
light  of  an  opening  eternity. 

"  All  this  time,  the  vomiting  and  purging  were 
going  on,  though  at  less  frequent  intervals  ;  her 
pulse  had  now  nearly  disappeared  ;  and  her  eyes 
were  fast  sinking  back  in  their  sockets.  As  eve- 
ning came  on,  and  a  light  was  brought  into  our 
tent,  O  how  did  those  dark  circles,  around  her 
bright  eyes,  contrasting  so  vividly  with  her  pal- 
lid, sunken  features,  like  dark  lialos  encircling 
bright  stars  in  the  sky,  point  us  to  the  fearful  re- 
sult as  near  at  hand !  Her  mind  was  now  very 
clear,  and  very  quick  in  its  operations.  Her  eyes 
were  unnaturally  bright,  now  turned  intently  on 
us,  and  anon  raised  upward.  To  every  inquiry 
which  we  made,  she  returned  a  prompt  reply, 
deliberately  and  distinctly  uttered,  like  the  clear 
echo  from  a  sepulchre.  Perfectly  conscious  and 
composed,  there  was,  at  the  same  time,  some- 
thing very  peculiar  and  striking  in  her  appear- 
ance ;  the  vivacity  and  elasticity  of  a  spirit, 
ready  to  break  away  from  its  earthly  fetters,  all 
plumed  for  its  upward  flight.  Indeed,  it  almost 
seemed  as  though  an  angel  had  found  its  way 
into  that  lonely  tent,  clad  in  the  hues  of  a  de- 
parting mortal. 


126  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

'  Her  home  was  far,  0  far  away ; 

The  clear  light  in  her  eyes, 
Had  nought  to  do  with  earthly  day ; 

'  Twas  kindled  from  the  skies.' 

"  The  subject  of  a  messenger  was  again  intro- 
duced, and  an  arrangement  finally  made. for  one 
to  go  immediateljj^  though,  as  it  afterwards  ap- 
peared, he  lingered  in  the  village  until  morning. 

"  I  often  repeated  the  direction,  as  I  have  said, 
'  Dear  Judith,  keep  your  eyes  and  your  heart 
right  on  the  cross  of  Christ ;  let  nothing  divert 
you  from  it ;  and  beseech  Him  to  prepare  you 
for  His  glory,  whether  it  be  in  life  or  in  death.' 
'  I  will  try  to  do  so,  papa,'  was  her  usual  reply. 

"  Collapse  had  now  fully  settled  upon  her,  and 
the  disease  was  much  less  active.  But  erelong 
she  exclaimed,  '  Oh,  mamma,  what  ails  my 
limb  ? '  How  did  that  inquiry  pierce  through 
our  hearts,  recognizing  it,  as  we  immediately 
did,  as  referring  to  a  spasm  I  Exhausted  our- 
selves, we  called  in  the  Nestorian  attendants  to 
rub  her  lower  limbs,  which  were  now  much 
cramped,  and  they  were  soon  relieved  by  the 
friction.  We  also  managed  to  kindle  a  fire,  of 
some  dry  weeds,  (the  frightened,  cruel  villagers 
refusing  to  sell  us  wood,)  and  heated  a  stone, 
which  we  kept  at  her  feet.  The  night  air  was 
cold  in  that  high  region,  though  the  sun,  during 
the  day,  had  been  very  hot,  and  every  aspect 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  127 

around  us  was  most  dreary,  except  as  we  looked 
upward.  To  add  to  the  gloom,  a  bear,  or  a  wild 
boar,  (the  darkness  prevented  determining  which,) 
sallied  down  from  the  neighbouring  mountains, 
and  prowled  around  our  tent.  Our  muleteer 
proposed  to  fire  on  him,  but  I  had  notice  of  his 
design  in  time  to  prevent  it. 

"  Almost  crushed  with  anxiety,  I  stepped  out 
for  a  moment,  while  the  Nestorians  were  rubbing 
her  lower  limbs,  and  Hormezd  embraced  the  op- 
portunity of  my  absence,  as  we  afterwards 
learned,  to  inquire,  '  Judith,  where  do  you  feel 
distressed  ?  '  She  replied,  '  Oh,  don  't  ask  me 
that ;  it  is  God's  will ;  let  His  will  be  done.' 
The  attendants  were  both  exceedingly  impressed 
with  her  sweet  submission  and  resignation,  and 
with  tearful  eyes,  they  said,  on  their  return  to 
Oroomiah,  'we  never  saw  any  thing  like  it.' 

"  Being  now  free  from  pain,  excepting  when  a 
spasm  seized  her  limbs,  she  conceived  that  there 
might  be  a  favorable  change,  and  once  inquired, 
'  Papa,  do  you  not  think  there  is  a  reaction  ? '  'I 
fear  not,  my  dear,'  I  replied  ;  '  look  right  to  Jesus, 
and  nowhere  else ;  He  is  the  physician  for  soul 
and  body.'  '  I  will  try,  papa ;  1  do ;  I  can  trust 
in  Him  ; '  was  her  reply. 

"  Her  affection  for  her  parents  seemed  to 
strengthen,  as  life  waned.  '  Sit  close  to  me,'  she 
would  say  to  us,  *  and  keep  your  arms  over  me.' 


128  THE  PERSIAN  flower;  or 

"  Once  the  silence  was  broken  by  her  saying, 
'  Papa,  you  will  take  care  of  my  little  tree^  won't 
you  ? '  '  Yes,  dear  Judith  ;  where  is  it  ? '  I  re- 
plied. 'In  the  front  yard,' she  answered.  In  the 
rush  of  her  thoughts  to  her  dear  but  now  far  off 
home,  they  thus  lighted,  for  a  moment,  on  her 
favorite  little  tree,  as  one  of  the  loved  objects 
there ;  but  this,  and  her  request  to  be  buried  by  the 
side  of  her  sister  Fidelia,  were  all  the  earthly  re- 
quests that  she  made,  if  indeed  the  latter  can  be 
thus  designated.  Her  soul  seemed  too  much 
swallowed  up  in  the  Saviour,  and  the  bright  pros- 
pects before  her,  to  think  much  of  earthly  things. 

"  About  this  time,  her  papa  and  mamma 
kneeled  over  her  and  prayed  in  succession.  She 
remained  silent  a  few  moments  after  we  closed ; 
and  then,  without  any  suggestion  from  us,  uttered 
the  following  short  prayer,  slowly  and  distinctly, 
and  evidently  from  the  depths  of  her  soul  — '  O 
Lord,  accept  me  ;  if  it  be  thy  will,  make  me  well 
again ;  if  not,  oh  let  me  not  murmur.'  We  re- 
sponded an  audible  amen. 

"  The  active  form  of  the  disease  now  having 
ceased,  she  lay,  some  of  the  time,  in  a  kind  of 
slumber,  though  she  was  probably  not  asleep. 
Once,  as  her  mamma  was  feeling  her  cold  hand 
in  vain  for  any  sign  of  pulse,  and  despairing,  said, 
*  Oh  must  we  then  part  with  her  ? '  she  promptly 
and  distinctly  replied,  '  Oh  no ;  I  am  not  going 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  129 

now.  She  said  this  obviously  to  comfort  her 
distressed  mother.  In  this  semi-slumber,  there 
was  occasionally  a  symptom  of  wandering.  I 
now  inquired  of  her,  '  Do  you  not  think  you  will 
die,  dear  Judith  ?  '  '  Oh  no ;  not  now,'  she  re- 
plied ;  '  I  have  just  seen  an  angel,  who  told  me 
that  he  had  been  sent  for  me ;  but  that  I  am  al- 
lowed to  stay  a  little  longer ;  oh,  I  feel  so  com- 
fortable I  know  I  shall  get  well.' 

"  The  anxious  hours  rolled  on,  while  we  still 
sought  in  vain  for  any  indication  of  returning 
pulse,  or  symptom  of  the  'reaction'  for  which  she 
had  inquired ;  and  her  feet,  hands,  and  face  were 
becoming  deadly  cold.  For  the  most  part,  how- 
ever, she  continued  rational,  and  promptly  replied 
to  our  questions,  in  a  clear  voice  and  collected 
manner.  Once,  observing  me  feel  long  and  care- 
fully for  her  pulse,  she  inquired, '  Is  there  no  hope  ? ' 
I  replied,  '  the  saying  is,  "  there  is  always  hope 
while  there  is  life,"  but  I  see  very  little.'  She 
still  manifested  no  fear  nor  agitation.  An  occa- 
sional spasm  in  her  lower  limbs  was  now  her 
only  suffering,  and  that  was  soon  relieved  by  the 
prompt  rubbing  of  the  kind  Nestorians. 

"  At  length,  when  we  had  remained  silent  a 
few  moments,  she  said,  '  Papa,  do  repeat  some- 
thing.' I  repeated  the  23d  Psalm,  '  The  Lord  is 
my  shepherd,'  etc. ;  and  then  inquired,  '  Did  you 
understand  me,  dear  Judith  ?  Is  it  precious  ?  ' 
9 


130  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER  ;    OR 

'  O  yes,'  she  replied ;  '  O  how  precious.'  I  then 
repeated  the  verse  of  the  hymn, 

'  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed, 

Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are  ; 
While  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head, 
And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there.* 

I  also  repeated  verses  of  other  hymns,  all  which 
;seemed  to  afford  her  great  satisfaction  and  com- 
fort. 

"  By  and  by,  restlessness  ensued,  with  occa- 
sional wandering.  She  mentioned  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Cochran,  as  though  near  her,  and  asked,  '  Why 
;has  Mr.  Cochran  left  so  soon  V  She  also  asked, 
'  Has  Dr.  Wright  come  ?  '  She  remarked,  about 
this  time,  when  I  was  speaking  to  her,  '  I  cannot 
now  hear  with  this  left  ear ; '  and  soon  after- 
ward, '  Why,  is  this  ear  going  to  be  deaf  ?  '  She 
often  asked,  '  Papa  and  mamma,  are  you  near 
me  ? '  (the  light  being  dim,  and  perhaps  her  sight 
also  failing) ;  '  Keep  close  to  me ;  O  what  a  com- 
fort it  is  to  have  you  by  me.' 

"  At  length  she  said,  '  Papa,  I  think  I  have 
pleurisy ;  I  feel  a  pain  in  my  side.  Dr.  Wright 
once  gave  me  a  Seidlitz,  when  I  had  pleurisy ; 
won't  you,  mamma?'  Her  mamma  prepared 
and  gave  her  a  soda  poivder,  which  the  dear  child 
called  Seidlitz,  and  repeated,  on  drinking  it,  '  O 
how  refreshing.     Twice  afterward,  she  requested 


JUDITH  G.  PERKINS.  131 

Seidlitz,  and  took  a  tumbler  of  soda  in  her  own 
hands  and  drank  it,  with  hearty  expressions  of 
satisfaction  and  gratitude ;  vividly  reminding  us 
of  her  high  enjoyment  of  every  comfort  on  this 
journey,  and  her  gratitude  for  it;  and  indeed  on 
the  whole  journey  of  life.  Far  enough  from 
being  tired  of  life,  she  had  ardently  loved  and 
exquisitely  enjoyed  its  every  blessing,  as  a  hea- 
venly Father's  gift. 

"  We  knew  that  the  pain  in  her  side,  which  she 
had  mentioned,  was  the  token  of  rapidly  ap- 
proaching death  —  the  loosening-  of  the  silver  cord. 
Her  breathing  now  became  labored;  her  voice 
husky ;  and  her  articulation  very  difficult.  After 
some  time,  she  said,  '  Papa,  please  raise  me  up.' 
This  was  her  last  audible  expression.  I  raised 
her  up,  and  her  mamma  now  waked  Henry  and 
called  him  to  her.  The  poor  child  had  spent  his 
tears,  and  now  stood,  trembling  and  silent,  before 
his  dying  sister.  I  said  to  Henry, '  Kiss  your  dear 
sister,  ask  her  to  forgive  you,  and  say,  farewell.' 
Henry  did  so ;  and  with  a  sweet  smile,  she  nod- 
ded her  forgiveness  and  farewell.  I  then  request- 
ed Henry  to  promise  his  sister,  that  he  would 
try  to  be  a  good  boy,  and  do  in  all  things  as  she 
had  requested  him.  He  did  so;  and  she  again 
nodded  her  hearty  satisfaction,  an  angelic  serenity 
beaming  from  her  lighted  countenance.  This 
was  her  last  recognition.     Breathing  shorter  and 


132  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

shorter,  for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  she  gently- 
slept,  as  we  believe,  in  Jesus,  at  three  o'clock, 
A.  M.,  on  the  4th  of  September,  1852,  aged  twelve 
years  and  twenty-six  days. 

"  There  was  not  a  gasp,  nor  struggle,  nor  groan, 
nor  the  distortion  of  a  feature,  in  the  dying  scene ; 
a  termination  of  the  loved  one's  course,  very  com- 
forting to  the  riven  hearts  of  her  parents,  as  had 
been  the  remarkable  clearness  and  activity  of  her 
mind,  and  equally  so,  her  calmness,  composure, 
resignation,  and  firm  trust  in  her  Saviour,  and 
the  absence  of  all  signs  of  fear,  during  her  very 
brief  but  violent  sickness.  Eternity  never  ap- 
peared to  us  so  near  as  at  the  moment  of  her 
exit ;  its  curtain  seemed  lifted  up  before  us.  Nor 
had  death  ever  appeared  to  us  so  disrobed  of  its 
terrors.  Its  Jordan  was  but  a  rill,  that  might  be 
crossed  by  a  single  step.  Never  before  had  we 
witnessed  so  striking  a  comment  on  the  beauti- 
ful hymn : 

*  Sweet  is  the  scene,  when  Christians  die  ; 

When  holy  souls  retire  to  rest ; 
How  mildly  beams  the  closing  eye ; 
How  gently  heaves  th'  expiring  breast ! 

*  So  fades  a  summer  cloud  away ; 

So  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  arc  o'er ; 
So  gently  shuts  the  eye  of  day; 
So  dies  a  wave  along  the  shore. 


JUDITH   Q.  PERKK^S.  133 

'  Triumphant  smiles  the  victor's  brow, 
Fanned  by  some  guardian  angel's  wing ; 

O  Grave !  where  is  thy  vict'ry  now, 

And  where,  0  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ? ' 

"  Thus  suddenly  passed  our  sweet  Juditii 
away!  We  sat  and  wept  over  her  a  few 
minutes,  the  Nestorian  attendants  most  tenderly 
weeping  with  us  ;  and  I  then  led  the  sorrowing 
group,  still  retaining  the  same  position,  to  the 
mercy-seat,  in  the  Syriac  language,  that  the  Nes- 
torians  might  unite  with  us  in  the  prayer.  I 
afterward  directed  them  to  retire  and  sleep,  while 
we  closed  our  loved  one's  eyes,  and  then  lay 
down  by  her  side,  not  to  sleep,  but  to  weep,  to 
pray,  and  to  praise." 


CHAPTER  X. 


RETURN   AND   FUNERAL. 

We  continue  the  memorandum.  "  In  the 
morning  we  rose,  much  exhausted  by  the  affect- 
ing scenes  through  which  we  had  passed,  and 
had  a  cup  of  coffee  prepared  to  strengthen  our 
prostrated  bodies.  As  we  were  drinking  it,  by 
the  side  of  Judith's  lifeless  remains,  Henry  burst 
into  tears  and  said,  '  Oh,  I  wish  this  were  the 
time  when  Christ  was  on  earth,  to  raise  the 
dead !  "  and  after  a  few  sobs,  he  added,  "  O  that 
we  had  not  left  our  dear  home;  then  perhaps 
Judith  would  not  have  died ! ' 

*  She  slept  upon  the  shroud,  on  her  white  bed, 
Amid  the  weepers.     There  was  none  to  say, 
Taliiha  Cumi  ;  or  uplift  the  head, 
That  in  its  flood  of  silken  ti-esses  lay 
Scarcely  dishevelled  ;  with  so  slight  pain 
The  dark-robed  angel  waved  his  fearful  rod, 
And  from  the  beauteous  clay  that  knew  no  stain, 
Drew  forth  the  pure  in  heart  to  see  her  God.' 

"  As  I  walked  a  few  moments  around  our  tent, 
soliloquising  in  bitterness  of  spirit,  — '  What  has 


THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER.  135 

come  iipon  us  ? '  etc.,  I  observed  that  the  tent 
was  pitched  precisely  on  the  spot  where  I  had 
pitched  our  tent  for  a  night  seventeen  years  be- 
fore, with  the  lamented  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Grant,  and 
Mr.  Merrick,  our  first  missionary  fellow-laborers, 
when  I  was  conducting  them  to  Persia  from 
Erzroom,  whither  I  had  been  to  meet  them. 
The  thought  of  two  of  those  friends,  long  since 
arrived  in  glory,  as  having  perhaps  welcomed 
thither  the  spirit  of  our  darling  Judith,  who  bore 
the  name  of  one  of  them,  and  whom  we  had  just 
given  back  to  the  Saviour,  on  the  spot  where, 
long  ago,  I  kneeled  in  prayer  with  those  mission- 
ary pilgrims,  threw  a  double  sacredness  around 
the  place  where  I  stood,  and  sweetened  my  cup 
of  anguish. 

"  Though  well  nigh  crushed,  we  had  sorrowful 
duties  still  to  perform.  After  seeking  help  from 
above,  the  mother,  with  her  own  hand,  clipped  a 
few  of  those  '  silken  tresses,'  to  keep  herself,  and 
send  to  far  off  friends.  And  then  with  her  own; 
hands  she  washed  the  corpse,  and  dressed  her 
own  child  for  the  grave.  As  no  coffin  could  be 
obtained,  the  loved  one  was  sewed  in  a  strong, 
oriental  felt,  of  the  size  and  form  of  a  bed-quilt, 
and  placed  upon  her  bed.  In  the  absence  of 
other  means  and  other  aid,  Hormezd,  with  his 
dirk,  cut  two  willow  sticks  from  the  margin  of 
the  brook,  and  sewed  them  upon  the  sides  of  the 


136 

bed,  to  which  the  dear  form  was  lashed,  and  then 
bound  to  the  back  of  the  faithful  horse. 

"  A  long  parley,  most  trying  in  such  circum- 
stances, must  now  be  held  by  me,  with  our  Mo- 
hammedan muleteer,  to  induce  him  to  return 
with  us.  A  part  of  his  horses  and  mules  had 
gone  on  to  Erzroom  in  another  caravan  ;  and  a  far 
more  serious  obstacle  urged  by  him,  was,  his  ap- 
prehension lest  he,  and  perhaps  all  of  us,  should 
be  mobbed,  or  even  murdered,  by  outraged  Mo- 
hammedans on  the  road,  should  he  be  seen  car- 
rying the  corpse  of  an  injixlel  (Christian,)  to  say 
nothing  of  the  violence  he  would  thus  do  to  his 
own  feelings  as  a  good  mussulmdn.  An  arrange- 
ment with  the  muleteer,  who  was  exorbitant  in 
proportion  as  our  necessity  and  dependence 
seemed  pressing,  being  finally  concluded,  we 
commenced  our  mournful  return  about  ten 
o'clock  A.  M.,  the  cruel,  panic-struck  villagers  of 
Zorava  still  calling  on  us  to  '  depart  quickly,'  and 
we  feeling  thankful  that  we  were  permitted  to 
leave  the  place  without  being  stoned. 

"  An  hour  after  starting,  we  met  Colonel 
'  TcherikofF,  the  Russian  commissioner  in  settling 
the  boundary  between  Turkey  and  Persia,  and 
his  secretary,  who  had  visited  us  a  few  weeks 
before,  at  Oroomiah.  They  were  astounded  and 
deeply  affected  by  the  sorrowful  tidings,  and  by 
the  sight  of  us  followed  by  the  lifeless  remains 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  137 

of  our  dear  daughter,  whom  they  had  so  recently 
seen  in  the  bloom  of  health.  They  urgently  re- 
quested to  be  permitted  to  do  any  thing  in  their 
power  to  aid  and  relieve  us.  We  could  only 
desire  them  to  convey  the  intelligence  to  our 
friend,  Colonel  Williams,  now  two  days  beyond, 
who  was  looking  out  for  our  approach  to  his 
camp,  on  our  way  to  Erzroom." 

We  now  turn  from  the  memorandum,  to  the 
letter  of  Miss  Fisk,  for  an  account  of  the  return 
of  this  mourning  family  to  their  home.  She 
says:  "Retracing  the  steps  of  the  previous  day, 
required  in  them  no  ordinary  resignation  and 
Christian  fortitude.  As  they  remembered  how 
the  dear  departed  one  had  then  cheered  them  on 
their  way,  and  now  looked  on  all  that  was  mor- 
tal of  her,  borne  in  solemn  silence  after  them, 
they  exclaimed  in  anguish  of  spirit,  '  What  hath  a 
day  brought  forth  ! '  That  sad  and  weary  ride 
was  as  naturally  as  gratefully  relieved,  by  remi- 
niscences of  dear  Judith  ;  the  religious  ones  being 
of  course  the  most  interesting.  Among  such, 
Henry  artlessly  said,  '  Last  Sabbath  evening,  the 
evening  before  we  left  home,  as  we  were  walking 
on  the  roof,  dear  Judith  said  to  me,  "  Henry,  per- 
haps I  shall  die  on  this  journey ;  and  how  de- 
lightful it  will  be,  to  go  up  to  that  heaven,  and 
see  God  who  never  dies."  '  On  the  day  previous 
to  that  Sabbath,  she  had  also  remarked  to  little 


138  THE   PERSIAN  FLOWER;     OR 

Harriet  Stoddard,  with  affectionate  solemnity, 
*  Perhaps  I  shall  die  on  this  journey.'  On  opening 
her  basket,  which  was  hung  on  her  saddle  when 
she  rode,  and  observing  among  the  books  which 
she  had  put  up  for  the  way,  'the  Memoir  of 
"Wilberforce  Richmond,'  Henry  said,  '  About  five 
Sabbath  evenings  ago,  Judith  read  to  me  on  the 
roof,  about  the  death  of  Wilberforce  Richmond.' 
Her  mamma  could  also  call  up  many  peculiarly 
sweet  seasons  of  religious  conversation  and  pray- 
er, which  she  had  recently  held  with  the  departed 
one,  all  of  which  were  most  comforting  to  their 
desolate  hearts,  as  strengthening  them  in  the 
confidence,  that  she  now  rested  in  the  Saviour's 
bosom. 

"  The  little  band  of  mourners  reached  the 
beautiful  gardens  of  Pera  —  a  large  village  on 
the  plain  of  Khoy,  about  sunset.  They  had 
passed  those  gardens  at  dawn,  on  the  preceding 
day,  and  Judith's  young  heart  had  been  filled 
with  delight  in  observing  them.  Here  they  re- 
mained till  midnight,  and  then  came  on  their 
sorrowful  way,  feeling  compelled  to  travel  on  the 
Sabbath,  on  account  of  the  corpse,  in  that  hot 
region,  as  also  to  avoid  unnecessary  observation, 
by  remaining  long  at  one  place. 

"  As  they  rode  on,  they  often  gave  audible  ex- 
pression to  their  grief  At  such  times,  little 
Henry,  who  followed  his  parents  on  the  white 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  139 

donkey  formerly  rode  by  his  sister,  would  call  out 
to  them,  '  Do  n't  cry ;  it  is  no  matter  if  Judith 
has  gone  to  heaven  ;  that  is  a  better  place  ; '  but 
the  little  comforter's  own  heart  would  break,  the 
next  moment,  and  weeping  most  bitterly,  he 
would  say,  '  Who  will  walk  with  me  on  the  roof 
now?  Who  will  sing  with  me?  Who  will 
play  for  me  on  the  seraphine  ?  Who  will  help 
me  get  my  lessons  ?  ' 

"  With  such  sad  reflections  the  afflicted  ones 
were  borne  on  their  long,  hot,  and  weary  way, 
and  reached  Yavshanly,  a  village  in  Salmas, 
about  midday.  On  the  way,  the  horse,  bearing 
the  corpse,  in  one  instance  slipped,  in  the  sidling 
path,  on  the  very  brink  of  a  turbid  stream,  and 
fell;  and  in  his  struggles,  all  but  plunged  down 
the  bank,  before  the  precious  charge  could  be 
dislodged  from  his  back.  It  was  a  moment  of 
deepened  agony,  to  hearts  already  bleeding  at 
every  pore. 

"  The  murky  cholera  atmosphere  struck  them 
as  terrible,  both  on  the  plain  of  Khoy  and  of 
Salmas,  where  the  disease  was  raging  fearfully ; 
and  they  were  doubtless  in  imminent  peril,  while 
again  passing  through  that  atmosphere. 

"  They  were  now  within  a  few  hours  of  Gava- 
lan ;  but  as  yet  we  knew  nothing  of  the  scenes 
through  which  they  had  passed,  their  messenger 
not  reaching  us  till  Sabbath  evening." 


140  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

We  interrupt  the  narrative  of  Miss  Fisk  a 
moment  at  this  point,  to  introduce  a  note  written 
at  Yavshanly,  by  the  bereaved  father,  to  his 
missionary  associates,  and  forwarded  to  Mr. 
Stocking. 

"  Yavshanly  (Salmas),  SabhatJi,  Sept.  5th,  1852. 

"To  ALL  THE  Brethren  and  Sisters,  —  "We 
have  just  reached  this  village,  on  our  return  with 
the  lifeless  remains  of  our  dearest,  sweetest 
Judith.  She  died  of  cholera^  at  Zorava,  at  three 
o'clock,  yesterday  morning.  I  trust  a  line  for- 
warded by  a  messenger  from  that  place,  a  little 
before  her  death,  has  prepared  you  for  the  intel- 
ligence of  this  terrible  stroke. 

"  I  cannot  now  attempt  to  describe  the  pro- 
gress of  the  destroyer,  which  resulted  in  her  death 
in  about  fifteen  hours  after  the  first  symptom  of 
disease.  Up  to  the  time  of  the  attack,  she  had 
been  one  of  the  happiest  of  mortals,  all  the  way 
on  the  road,  and  had  travelled  with  great  ease 
and  almost  no  weariness,  often  remarking,  '  I  am 
not  tired  at  all ;  how  easily  I  ride ! ' 

"  I  need  not  attempt  to  portray  to  you 
the  afternoon  and  night  of  agony^  which  we 
passed  at  the  lonely  Mohammedan  village  of 
Zorava  —  while  the  king  of  terrors  was  tearing 
from  our  arms  the  earthly  idol  of  our  hearts.  I 
have  said  agon?/;  but  it  was  the  agony  of  parental 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  141 

hearts.  The  loved  one  removed  was  perfectly 
calm,  and  perfectly  conscious,  till  nearly  the  last, 
often  commending  her  soul  to  Christ  in  silent 
prayer,  and  once  in  an  audible  prayer,  uttered 
from  the  depths  of  her  soul,  which  seemed  to  be 
illumined  and  prepared  for  the  awful  moment, 
by  light  and  strength  from  on  high. 

"  Nor  need  I  say  that  our  hearts  are  riven  and 
crushed  ;  but  we  would  have  them  bleed,  till 
Jesus  shall  heal  the  wounds  He  has  inflicted. 
To  grace  we  owe  it,  to  tell  you  that  we  have 
been  wonderfully  supported  and  comforted,  in  a 
situation  more  heart-rending  than  often  falls  to 
the  lot  of  mortals. 

"  I  cannot  enlarge  now.  "We  propose  to  start 
wdth  the  rising  moon,  and  shall,  with  God's  help, 
be  in  Gavalan  early  in  the  morning.  Be  kind 
enough  to  send  this  sheet  right  along,  by  a  foot- 
man or  otherwise,  to  the  city.  If  Mrs.  Perkins 
and  Henry  could  be  carried  from  Gavalan  in  the 
waggon,  it  would  be  a  great  relief.  I  have  no 
occasion,  I  arn  sure,  to  bespeak  your  prayers  in 
our  behalf. 

"  Most  affectionately  yours, 

«J.  Perkins." 

Miss  Fisk's  narrative  of  their  return  continues 
thus  from  the  point  where  we  left  it  in  Salmas. 
"  Mr.  Stocldng  went  early  the  next  morning  to 


142  THE  PERSIAN  flower;  or 

meet  them,  and  a  few  hom's  brought  our  stricken 
friends  to  us.  We  longed  to  comfort  their 
wounded  spirits ;  but  when  we  looked  at  them, 
in  their  grief,  a  voice  seemed  to  say,  '  a  time  to 
be  silent.'  The  remains  of  our  precious  Judith 
were  laid  in  the  deep  shades  of  Mar  Yohannan's 
garden,  till  evening,  when  they  were  borne  from 
us  in  sweet  silence  ;  for  even  the  Mohammedan 
muleteer,  after  all  his  misgivings  at  first  seemed 
now  to  feel  that  he  was  bearing  precious  dust  to 
its  last  resting-place.  His  remaining  apprehen- 
sions, if  he  had  them,  would  of  course  also  lead 
him  to  prefer  the  stillness  of  night  for  the  com- 
pletion of  the  journey." 

The  arrival  of  the  intelligence  of  Judith's  sick- 
ness and  death  at  her  home,  is  thus  described  in 
a  note  to  her  father,  by  Dr.  Wright,  to  whom  it 
was  first  communicated :  "  We  can  never  forget 
the  morning  of  the  6th  of  September,  when  the 
announcement  of  dear  Judith's  death  was  first 
made  to  us.  The  day  had  just  begun  to  dawn. 
I  was  in  a  sound  sleep.  Bekky^  the  nurse  of  our 
little  boy,  came  to  the  door  of  our  bed-room,  and 
called  '  Sahib,'  [Sir] ;  I  half  waked,  and  she  said 
in  Syriac,  '  Judith  is  dead ! '  It  seemed  like  a 
dream.  Half  bewildered,  I  rose  up  in  bed  and 
asked,  '  What  is  it  ? '  '  Has  anybody  come  ? ' 
«Is  there  a  letter?'  She  replied,  '  Pera,'  (Mr. 
Stoddard's  servant),  *  says  so.'     I  told  her  to  call 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS.  143 

him.  She  went  out,  and  soon  returned  with  your 
note,  written  on  Friday,  at  four  o'clock,  p.  m.  I 
took  it  to  the  window,  and  by  the  faint  light  of 
breaking  day,  was  just  able  to  read,  '  We  are  in 
deep  waters.  Our  precious  Judith  is  just  gone  of 
cholera.'^  It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  to  describe 
the  emotions  of  Mrs.  Wright  and  myself,  at  this 
moment.  The  tears  flowed  freely.  '  Can  it  be  ?  ' 
'  Can  it  be? '  we  asked.  I  looked  again  at  the 
note,  and  marked  the  words,  'the  dying  one.' 
Hope  revived.  She  may  still  live.  '  While  there  is 
life  there  is  hope.'  I  at  once  prepared  to  hasten 
to  you,  and  with  Mr.  Stoddard,  Mr.  Cochran,  and 
Miss  Harris,  started  for  Gavalan.  We  were  hourly 
looking  for  another  messenger.  When  about  six 
miles  from  the  city,  we  saw  a  footman  coming 
at  a  rapid  speed.  On  meeting  us,  he  stopped 
and  took  from  his  girdle  your  letter  from  Yav- 
shanly.  I  dismounted,  took  the  letter,  opened  it 
with  a  trembling  hand,  and  read  it  aloud.  Our 
hopes  were  all  dashed  to  the  ground.  The  dear 
one  was  no  more.  There  by  the  roadside  we 
stopped  and  wept.  We  rode  on  toward  Gavalan 
with  sad  hearts.  '  The  Lord  hath  done  it,'  we 
thought,  and  were  still. 

"  Monday  night,  as  Bekky  (the  Nestorian  nurse) 
was  undressing  our  little  Caty,  the  child,  crying 
convulsively,  said  in  Syriac,  '  That  beautiful,  that 
wise,  that  loving  girl,  is  dead  I ' '' 


144  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

Mrs.  Stoddard,  referring  to  the  same  subject, 
as  also  to  the  arrival  of  the  corpse  at  Seir,  as 
contrasted  with  Judith's  departure  from  her  home 
one  week  before,  says :  "  Very  different  was  the 
scene  on  that  spot,  from  that  of  the  previous 
Monday.  Now  none  but  sorrowing,  anxious 
countenances  were  to  be  met;  for  tidings  had 
come,  that  our  dear  young  friend  w^as  prostrated 
with  cholera.  We  did  not  then  know  that  the 
fearful  disease  had  finished  its  work  ;  and  in  the 
midst  of  our  anxiety,  a  hope  of  better  tidings 
would  often  arise.  But  at  evening,  our  first 
fears  were  confirmed. 

"  I  cannot  describe  our  feelings,  when,  on  the 
morning  of  Tuesday,  we  saw  the  lifeless  remains 
approaching  our  dwelling.  The  tears  and  sob- 
bings of  our  children  and  of  the  natives,  were 
heart-rending.  We  could  only  look  upward  and 
say, '  Our  Father  doeth  all  things  well.'  '  What 
we  know  not  now,  we  shall  know  hereafter.'  '  In 
wisdom  hast  thou  done  it'  " 

Miss  Fisk  continues :  "  The  brethren  from  Seir 
met  our  friends  at  Gavalan,  and  accompanied 
them,  the  next  morning,  on  their  way  to  their 
lonely  dwelling.  They  reached  their  home  in 
the  afternoon,  to  be  surrounded  by  a  large  circle 
of  weeping  friends,  afflicted  in  their  affliction. 
The  funeral  services,  which  were  held  soon  after- 
ward, were  conducted  by  Dr.  Wright  at  the  house 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  145 

in  English,  and  by  Mr.  Stocking  at  the  grave,  in 
Syriac  ;  and  before  the  setting  sun,  the  dear  child 
was  laid  on  our  gi'een  hillside  at  Seir,  and  by 
the  side  of  her  darling  sister,  where  she  had  re- 
quested to  be  buried.  At  the  gi-ave,  one  of  the 
Nestorians  who  had  accompanied  the  family,  by 
request,  artlessly  told  the  assembled  villagers  the 
aftecting  scenes  which  he  had  witnessed.  All 
were  bathed  in  tears ;  for  all  felt  that  they  had 
lost  a  friend.  In  all  the  families  of  the  village, 
she  had  taken  a  deep  interest ;  and  several  of  the 
middle  aged  women  had  been  taught  by  her  in 
the  Sabbath  school.  Indeed,  she  had  greatly 
endeared  herself  to  all  the  scores  and  hundreds 
of  Nestorians  who  knew  her,  and  was  a  univer- 
sal favorite  among  that  people.  Said  a  Nestorian 
of  a  distant  village,  on  hearing  of  her  death, 
'  there  was  none  like  her ;  so  beautiful,  so  wise, 
so  pious.     She  would  pray  like  an  angel.' 

"  The  grief  expressed  by  the  Nestorians,  as- 
sembled at  her  funeral,  as  they  stood  by  her  open 
grave,  was  most  affecting ;  and  it  was  a  melting- 
sight  to  all,  to  see  the  parents  and  little  Henry, 
worn  out  with  the  fatigue  of  their  long  and  rapid 
journey,  and  with  their  sorrow,  sink  down  upon 
Fidelia's  grave,  and  there  watch  the  committing 
to  the  dust  of  their  darling  Judith." 

The  services  w^ere  closed  on  that  hallowed 
spot,  by  singing  in  Syriac,  a  translation  of  the 
10 


146  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER. 

following  beautiful  hymn,  which  had  been  a  fa- 
vorite with  the  departed  one,  and  was  one  of  the 
last  pieces  which  she  played  on  the  seraphine. 
The  Nestorians  joined  in  the  singing. 

"  Sister,  thou  wast  mild  and  lovely, 
Gentle  as  the  summer  breeze ; 
Pleasant  as  the  air  of  evening. 
When  it  floats  among  the  trees. 

"  Peaceful  be  thy  silent  slumber. 
Peaceful  in  the  gi*ave  so  low ; 
Thou  no  more  wilt  join  our  number ; 
Thou  no  more  our  songs  shalt  know. 

"  Dearest  sister,  thou  hast  left  us ; 
Here  thy  loss  we  deeply  feel ; 
But '  tis  God  that  hath  bereft  us  ; 
He  can  all  our  sorrows  heal. 

■*'  Yet  again  we  hope  to  meet  thee, 
AVhen  the  day  of  life  is  fled  ; 
Then  in  heaven,  with  joy,  to  greet  thee ; 
Where  no  farewell  tear  is  shed." 

This  hymn  was  printed  soon  afterward,  in  the 
"  Kays  of  Light,"  the  Nestorian  monthly  period- 
ical, as  appropriate  to  the  memory  of  Judith  ; 
and  a  biographical  sketch  of  her  was  published 
in  the  same  number. 


CHAPTER   XL 


A  DESOLATE  HOME. 


We  continue  the  narrative  by  Miss  Fisk. 
"  The  burial  being  over,  the  stricken  family  re- 
turned to  their  desolate  dwelling,  to  feel  anew 
the  breach  made  in  their  household.  The  dear 
departed  one  had  long  been  the  light  and  life  of 
that  dwelling.  The  feeble  mother  leaned  on  her 
precious  daughter.  When  sickness  invaded  her 
almost  worn-out  frame,  Judith  was  ever  by  her 
side,  to  nurse  —  and  that  most  tenderly  —  the 
suffering  one.  Did  she  ask  for  society  ?  It  was 
found  in  this  dear  child,  whose  amiability  and 
intelligence  made  her  a  pleasing  companion  to 
all,  and  especially,  a  solace  to  that  mother,  on 
whom  so  many  bereaving  strokes  had  fallen. 
Did  household  cares  press  ?  This  mature  child, 
of  twelve  years,  would  kindly  say,  *  O  mammsi, 
let  me  take  all  the  care ;  I  cannot  see  you  sink ; 
for  my  life  is  bound  up  in  yours.' 

"  Did  a  devoted  father  ask  a  little  repose,  when 
borne  down  with  missionary  labors  ?     It  was 


148  THE   PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

always  found  in  Judith.  That  sweet  eye,  which 
I  am  sure  you  will  remember,  ever  met  papa 
with  a  smile,  and  with  something  interesting  in 
her  reading,  or  with  a  sweet  piece  of  music.  By 
her  side,  cares  were  forgotten,  and  he  returned  to 
his  study  or  other  labors,  with  new  interest,  and 
thankful  for  the  roses  strown  in  his  path. 

"  Few  brothers  depend  on  a  sister,  as  did 
Henry  on  Judith  ;  and  I  feel  for  him,  as  I  never 
felt  for  any  child,  in  his  loneliness.  It  is  a  com- 
fort to  us  to  know,  that  thousands  in  our  native 
land  will  sympathize  with  all  these  bereaved 
ones,  and  tenderly  pray  for  them,  when  they 
shall  hear  what  God  has  done." 

We  turn  once  more  to  the  father's  memoran- 
dum, in  regard  to  the  point  here  presented  by 
Miss  Fisk.  He  says :  "  My  pen  refuses  to  tell 
the  desolation  of  our  home,  with  dear  Judith 
gone.  But  God  has  inflicted  the  dreadful  blow, 
and  we  would  bow  silently  and  submissively  un- 
der it.  No  preceding  bereavement,  and  hardly 
the  removal  of  all  those  of  our  children  who  died 
in  infancy,  fell  upon  us  with  the  weight  and  se- 
verity of  dear  Judith's  death.  So  fair,  so  mature, 
so  intelligent,  and  so  amiable,  she  was,  in  the 
eyes  of  fond  parents  at  least,  one  of  the  loveliest 
of  beings ;  and  arrived  at  such  an  age,  she  had 
become  as  our  right  hand,  as  well  as  the  joy  of 
our  hearts. 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  149 

"  It  was  inexpressibly  grateful  to  us,  when  the 
funeral  services  were  over,  to  yield  ourselves  up 
to  the  kind  sympathy  of  our  beloved  missionary 
friends,  after  all  our  terrible  anxiety,  fatigue,  and 
exposure.  They  kept  us  at  their  tables,  till  the 
morning  of  the  third  day  after  our  return  ;  for 
we  shrank  from  approaching  our  own  loved 
board,  with  that  affecting  breach  staring  us  in 
our  faces,  and  but  a  single  olive  plant  remaining. 

"  When  we  finally  took  our  places  at  our  own 
family  altar,  for  the  first  time  after  our  return,  as 
we  opened  our  hymn  books,  Henry  pointed  us 
to  the  495th  hymn,  Church  Psalmody,  and  said, 
'that  is  the  hymn  which  Judith  selected,  and 
committed  and  recited  at  Sabbath  school,  the  last 
Sabbath  she  was  here ; '  and  it  is  the  one  which 
we  sung  at  family  worship,  that  Sabbath  morn- 
ing.    This  is  the  hymn. 

'  Time  is  winging  us  away, 

To  our  eternal  home ; 
Life  is  but  a  winter's  day, 

A  journey  to  the  tomb. 
Youth  and  vigor  soon  will  flee ; 

Blooming  beauty  lose  its  charms  ; 
All  that's  mortal  soon  shall  be 

Inclosed  in  death's  cold  arms. 

'  Time  is  winging  us  away, 

To  our  eternal  home ; 
Life  is  but  a  winter's  day, 
A  journey  to  the  tomb. 


150  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

But  the  Christian  shall  enjoy, 
Health  and  beauty  soon  above ; 

Far  beyond  the  Avorld's  alloy. 
Secure  in  Jesus'  love.' 

"  This  incident  cheered  our  desolation ;  for  it 
furnished  fresh  evidence,  that  the  current  of  Ju- 
dith's thoughts  had  of  late  run  strongly  on  such 
subjects. 

"  Poor  little  Henry  Martyn  was  comforted  by 
his  dreams.  He  said  to  his  parents,  some  time 
after  her  death,  '  I  often  dream  of  Judith.'  And 
to  their  inquiry,  '  What  do  you  dream  ? '  he  re- 
plied, 'that  she  comes  down  from  heaven  and 
talks  with  me.'  And  to  the  farther  inquiry, 
'  What  does  she  say  to  you  ? '  he  artlessly  an- 
swered, '  when  I  once  asked  her,  "  is  heaven  a 
better  place  than  this  ?  "  she  said,  "  O  yes,  a  great 
deal  better ; "  we  were  walking  together  near 
the  gate,  and  when  I  looked  around,  she  was 
gone.' " 

Here  taking  leave  of  the  father's  memoran- 
dum, we  return  once  more  to  the  interesting  let- 
ter of  Miss  Fisk,  already  so  often  quoted.  Pro- 
ceeding from  the  point  where  we  left  it,  she  says, 
"  A  great  and  most  unexpected  breach  has  been 
made,  not  only  in  the  family,  but  in  our  little 
circle.  Judith  had  passed  the  dangerous  period 
of  childhood,  and  though  delicate,  we  felt  that  in 
her  mountain  home,  she  had  a  fair  prospect  of 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  151 

growing  up ;  and  indeed,  having  almost  reached 
her  mother's  height,  she  seemed  to  us  to  stand 
on  the  very  verge  of  womanhood.  All  looked  on 
her  with  peculiar  interest,  as  the  oldest  of  the 
missionary  children  ;  and  the  little  flock  now  feel, 
that  their  eldest  sister  has  gone,  and  are  ready  to 
exclaim,  with  little  Caty  Cochran,  only  three 
years  old,  '  I  want  to  die,  and  go  to  heaven  and  be 
with  Judith.^ 

"  You  know  that  Judith's  education  had  been 
conducted  almost  wholly,  by  the  unwearied 
efforts  of  her  mother ;  and  that  mother  had  been 
most  richly  repaid,  for  each  hour's  care,  by  her 
eagerness  to  learn,  her  rapid  improvement,  and 
her  tender  gratitude.  Few  at  twelve  years  of 
age,  in  any  circumstances,  possess  the  general 
intelligence  that  was  Judith's  ;  and  her  interest 
and  proficiency,  in  the  study  of  the  Bible,  were 
remarkable.  To  teach  her,  was  a  great  pleasure 
to  any  one.  And  as  we  think  of  what  she  was, 
in  this  and  other  respects,  we  only  awake  more 
deeply  to  our  loss. 

"  Little  Henry  alluded,  on  his  sorrowful  way 
homeward,  to  the  seraphine.  This  was  the  gift 
of  a  kind  friend  in  America,  and  it  was  a  great 
comfort  to  dear  Judith,  as  well  as  to  others,  in 
their  solitude  here.  She  quickly  learned  to  play 
on  it  most  sweetly,  though  she  had  but  very  little 


152        THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER  ;  OR 

instruction  in  the  use  of  the  instrument.  As  I 
write  you  from  Judith's  once  cheerful  home,  the 
now  silent  seraphine,  and  a  thousand  pleasant 
reminiscences  stealing  over  me,  make  me  feel, 
that  I  stand  on  sacred  ground. 

"  The  bereaved  parents  are  wonderfully  sup- 
ported, in  their  sore  trial,  though  the  wounds 
fond  nature  feels  can  never  be  healed.  You  will 
weep  jvith  us,  when  you  hear  the  sad  tidings, 
and  we  know  that  you  will  remember  in  your 
prayers,  our  afflicted  circle,  and  especially  the 
stricken  parents,  who  had  before  given  back  to 
the  Saviour  five  precious  little  ones  ;  and  that 
brother,  who  may  never  again  answer  to  a  sis- 
ter's gentle  call.  Though  crushed  beneath  this 
stroke,  they  can  sweetly  say  with  the  departed 
one,  '  Let  the  Lord's  will  be  done.'  The  expe- 
rience of  that  dying  bed  was  such  as  greatly  to 
console  them ;  and  more  precious,  if  possible,  is 
the  remembrance  of  her  life,  and  especially  of 
the  last  few  months  of  it,  in  which  she  seemed  so 
rapidly  ripening  for  the  rest  into  which  she  has 
entered.  It  was  not  fond  parents  alone  that 
saw  and  felt  this  ;  others  who  loved  the  precious 
one  had  felt,  that  she  was  indeed  a  lamb  of  Je- 
sus, and  wondered  not  that  such  sweet  consola- 
tions were  imparted  to  her,  in  a  dying  hour,  un- 
der so  sudden  and  fearful  a  summons.     She  had 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  153 

loved  the  Saviour  in  the  bloom  of  health,  and 
He  would  not  forget  her  when  passing  through 
the  dark  way  that  led  to  Him.  We  think  of  her 
as  blessed  —  supremely  blessed^  and  not  even  the 
parent  would  call  her  back  ;  and  yet  there  are 
hearts  which  almost  feel  what  little  Caty  Coch- 
ran expressed,  '  /  ivant  to  die,  and  go  to  heaven 
and  be  with  Judith.^ " 

The  first  time  that  the  notes  of  the  "  silent 
seraphine  "  were  revived,  after  her  death,  at  Ju- 
dith's desolate  home,  by  her  beloved  teacher,  the 
following  beautiful  hymn  was  sung,  and  often 
afterward,  as  a  solace  to  the  bereaved  parents. 
It  is  here  inserted,  as  the  form  in  which  their 
feelings,  in  the  hours  of  their  deep  but  sanctified 
grief,  have  found  frequent  and  grateful  expres- 
sion. 

"  Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  ;  but  we  will  not  deplore  thee ; 
Though  sorrow  and  darkness  encompass  the  tomb ; 
The  Saviour  hath  pass'd  through  its  portals  before  thee, 
And  the  lamp  of  his  love  is  thy  guide  through  the  gloom. 

"  Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  :  we  no  longer  behold  thee, 
Nor  tread  the  rough  paths  of  the  world  by  thy  side ; 
But  the  wide  arms  of  mercy  are  spread  to  enfold  thee  ; 
And  sinners  may  hope,  since  the  Saviour  hath  died. 

"  Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  ;  and  its  mansion  forsaking 
Perchance  thy  Aveak  spirit  in  doubt  linger'd  long ; 
But  the  sunshine  of  heaven  beam'd  bright  on  thy  waking. 
And  the  sound  thou  didst  hear  was  the  seraphim's  song. 


154  THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER. 

*'  Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  ;  but  we  Avill  not  deplore  thee, 
Since  God  was  thy  Ransom,  thy  Guardian,  and  Guide ; 
He  gave  thee.  He  took  thee  ;  and  He  will  restore  thee. 
And  death  has  no  sting,  since  the  Saviour  hath  died." 


CHAPTER  XII. 


NOTES    OF   CONDOLENCE. 


The  remaining  pages  of  this  memoir  are  mainly 
occupied  with  familiar  notes  of  condolence, 
received  by  Judith's  parents,  from  missionary 
friends  and  others,  while  on  their  way  to  their 
desolate  home,  and  soon  after  reaching  it.  They 
are  interesting,  as  showing  the  estimation  in 
which  Judith  was  held,  as  also  for  the  deep  and 
tender  sympathy  which  they  breathe,  and  the 
rich  variety  of  appropriate  words  of  consolation, 
addressed  to  the  stricken  mourners,  which  they 
contain. 

Though  penned  with  not  the  most  distant 
idea  of  any  public  use  being  made  of  them,  we 
trust  that  the  authors  of  these  notes  will  excuse 
their  preservation,  in  the  humble  casket  in  w^hich 
the  precious  memory  of  dear  Judith  is  embalmed, 
whose  early  and  lamented  death  was  the  occasion 
of  them. 


156 

From  Rev.  Wm.  R.  Stocking. 

"  Gavalan,  Sabbath  Evening,  Sept.  5th,  1852. 

"My  dear  Brother,  —  Oar  hearts  are  filled 
with  grief,  at  the  sad  intelligence  contained  in 
your  note  of  the  3d,  which  reached  us  a  few 
moments  since.  "We  would  fain  hope  that  the 
precious  child  may  have  been  spared,  though 
brought  so  low.  May  the  God  of  all  consolation, 
and  our  gracious  Saviour,  be  near  to  you  and 
sister  Perkins,  and  your  other  child,  in  this  time 
of  deep  affliction.  I  would  hasten  to  you  imme- 
diately, if  it  was  thought  possible  for  me  to  pro- 
ceed with  my  eyes,  which  are  bound  up,  on 
account  of  a  severe  attack  of  ophthalmy. 

"Joseph  [a  brother  of  Mar  Yohannan,]  and 
another  man,  start  immediately  to  meet  you,  and 
in  the  course  of  five  hours,  your  letter  will  be 
at  Seir,  and  some  one  there  will  doubtless  come 
on  without  delay.  I  hope  I  may  be  able  to  start 
in  the  morning,  but  from  my  severe  pain,  last 
night,  I  fear  a  night  ride,  in  the  present  state  of 
my  eyes. 

"  Yours  with  deepest  sympathy  and  most 
heart-felt  prayers, 

"  W.  R.  Stocking." 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  157 

From  Miss  F.  Fisk. 

"  Gavalan,  Sahhath  Evening,  5  1-2  P.  M. 

"Dear  afflicted  Brother  and  Sister,  —  I 
write  you  a  line,  not  only  to  express  my  own 
sympathy  for  you,  but  that  of  us  all.  Your  mes- 
senger reached  us  half  an  hour  ago,  and  a  man 
has  been  gone  some  fifteen  minutes,  on  his  way 
to  the  city.  Mr.  Stocking  longs  to  fly  to  you, 
and  so  do  I ;  but  Mr.  S.  has  had  a  hard  day  with 
his  eyes,  and  dares  not  undertake  to  go  in  the 
night.  I  trust  that  we  shall  be  able  to  leave  in 
the  morning. 

"  The  intelligence  from  you  came  just  as  we 
were  assembled  for  our  evening  Sabbath  school, 
and  many  here  wept  with  us.  We  feel  almost 
overcome  by  the  shock,  and  how  much  more 
must  you.  A  Father  has  done  it,  which  will 
comfort,  but  cannot  heal  your  bleeding  hearts. 
We  will  pray  for  you,  and  beseech  our  Saviour 
to  sustain  you ;  but  when  I  think  of  the  great- 
ness of  your  affliction,  I  find  that  words  are  few. 
Precious  friends !  We  have  all  shared  your  sym- 
pathy in  days  that  are  past,  and  tve  feel  most 
tenderly  for  you  in  this  day  of  your  sorrow.  [May 
it  be  that  the  dear  child  lives  ?  Our  hearts  cling 
to  the  possibility ;  but  with  you,  the  sad  reality 
may  have  taken  away  your  last  hope.  Must  it 
be  so  ?     The  Lord  has  done  right.     That  must 


158  THE   PERSIAN  FLOWER;   OR 

set  each  thought  to  rest.  O  may  He  comfort 
you,  dear  brother  and  sister,  and  little  Henry  too. 
We  shall  wait  in  inexpressible  anxiety  till  the 
next  tidings  come.  The  precious  Saviour  be 
with  you.  He  alone  can  know  your  feelings,  if 
dear  Judith  has  been  taken  from  you. 

"  Yours  in  sorrow, 

"  Fidelia  Fisk." 

From  Rev.  J.  G.  Cochran. 

"  My  dear  Brother  and  Sister, —  I  can  only 
say,  that  my  heart  bleeds  with  yours,  in  the  over- 
whelming intelligence  that  has  this  moment 
reached  us.  Ours  is  a  circle  of  weeping  and 
deeply  stricken  hearts ;  but  what  must  be  your 
distress  and  agony  of  soul !  Your  darling  daugh- 
ter —  your  beloved  Judith  riven  from  your  em- 
brace, and  that,  on  your  lonely,  comfortless 
journey!  What  could  be  more  piercing  to  your 
heart,  and  trying  to  your  faith  ?  Vain  is  the  help 
of  man.  The  Lord  reigns,  and  shall  not  the 
Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right  ?  It  is  He  that 
wounds,  and  it  is  He  alone  who  can  heal.  I 
need  not  commend  you,  as  your  only  source  of 
consolation  and  support,  to  the  riches  of  His 
boundless  grace  and  infinite  love. 

"  I  am  summoned  to  make  preparations  for 
some  of  us  to  go  and  meet  you,  and  trust  I  shall 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  159 

find  it  practicable  to  go  myself,  and  have  only- 
time  to  add  the  assurance  of  my  heart-felt  sym- 
pathies, and  fervent  prayers  that  a  God  of  love 
may  bind  up  your  bleeding  hearts. 

"  Most  truly  yours, 

"J.  G.  Cochran." 

From  Mrs.  D.  P.  Cochran. 

"My  dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perkins,  —  I  feel 
that  I  can  hardly  write.  My  heart  is  almost 
bursting,  from  the  heavy,  heavy  tidings  just  now 
come.  May  God  have  mercy  on  you,  and  suc- 
cor you,  in  this  hour  of  deep  affliction.  Would 
that  some  of  us  could  have  been  near  you,  and 
softened  by  our  sympathy  the  dreadful  blow. 
Nothing  has  occurred  since  I  have  been  in  Persia, 
and  I  may  say,  in  my  whole  life,  that  has  so 
taken  hold  of  my  sympathies,  and  made  me  feel 
that  our  only  refuge  is  in  God.  Judith^  dear  child, 
was  dear  to  all  our  hearts.  She  loved  our  chil- 
dren, and  was  as  an  elder  sister  to  them. 

"  May  your  only  remaining  child  be  spared, 
and  be  brought  safely  back  to  us.  We  long  to 
see  you  all  safe  back.  Miss  Hams  goes  to  meet 
you,  and  were  it  possible,  I  would  go  a  part  of 
the  way.  We  feel  that  we  are  one,  and  would 
crave  the  place  of  mourners  together. 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 

«  D.  P.  Cochran." 


160  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

From  Rev.  D.  T.  Stoddard,  after  the  parents' 
return. 


"  My  dear  Brother,  —  My  heart  is  full.  My 
thoughts,  at  early  morning  and  late  at  night,  go 
out  to  you  in  the  most  tender  sympathy.  If  I 
do  not  talk  with  you  much  about  the  painful 
scenes  through  which  you  have  passed,  it  is  be- 
cause I  know  not  what  to  say.  No  words  are 
adequate  to  express  the  emotions  of  the  heart, 
at  such  a  time.  May  God  be  a  comforter  to  you 
both,  and  bind  up  your  desolate  hearts,  and  give 
you  his  sweet  presence,  in  your  otherwise  deso- 
late home.  May  you  realize,  to  the  full,  the 
meaning  of  the  promises,  and  say  '  It  is  the  Lord ; 
let  Him  do  what  seemeth  Him  good.'  As  one 
tie  after  another  is  severed,  which  binds  you  to 
earth,  may  heaven  seem  nearer  and  more  attrac- 
tive. There  our  best  friends  have  gone.  There 
Jesus  is.  There  too  we  shall  soon  arrive.  Let 
us  live  more  for  heaven.  Let  us  be  dead,  and 
our  lives  hid  with  Christ  in  God ;  so  that  when 
He,  who  is  our  life,  shall  appear,  we  also  may 
appear  with  Him  in  glory. 

"  Affectionately  your  sympathizing  brother  in 
Christ, 

"  D.  T.  Stoddard." 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  161 

From  the  mission. 

"  Seir,  Aug.  8th,  1852. 
"  Dear  Brother,  —  The  following  action  was 
taken  by  the  mission  to-day,  namely,  '  Whereas 
it  has  pleased  our  Heavenly  Father,  to  remove 
from  our  circle,  the  last  week,  by  cholera,  Judith 
G.  Perkins,  while  accompanying  her  parents  to 
Erzroom,  to  meet  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crane,  under 
circumstances  of  very  peculiar  aggravation, 

" '  Resolved,  That  we  tender  to  our  beloved  and 
deeply  afflicted  brother  and  sister  our  tenderest 
sympathy.' 

"  As  secretary  of  the  mission,  I  was  expected 
to  communicate  the  above  action  to  you ;  and  in 
doing  so,  I  will  only  say,  that  language  fails  to 
express  the  sympathy  we  all  feel  for  you  andi 
your  dear  wife,  in  your  sore  bereavement. 
"  Affectionately  your  brother, 

«  A.  H.  Wright, 
"  Secretary  of  the  Mission.''^ 

The  notes  which  immediately  follow,  are  from 
English  gentlemen,  who  are  very  kind  friends  of 
the  missionaries,  and  who  had  visited  Oroomiah, 
and  were  personally  acquainted  with  Judith  as 
well  as  her  parents. 

The  first  note  is  from  Colonel  Williams,  who 
has  been  repeatedly  mentioned  in  the  foregoing 
11 


162  THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER;     OR 

pages  of  this  memoir.  He  was,  at  the  time  of 
her  death,  near  the  base  of  Mount  Ararat,  about 
midway  between  Oroomiah  and  Erzroom,  just 
closing  his  arduous  labors  of  many  years,  in  sur- 
veying and  settling  the  boundary  between  Tur- 
key and  Persia.  He  had  heard  of  the  contem- 
plated journey  of  the  family  to  Erzroom,  and 
fondly  anticipated  seeing  them  on  the  way.  In 
a  note  to  Judith's  father,  dated  August  27th, 
1852,  he  playfully  said,  "  I  hope  we  may 
meet  on  the  road  ;  we  willgive  you  a  royal  sa- 
lute." Little  did  he  then  think,  that  within  one 
short  week  from  that  time,  dear  Judith  would  die 
so  near  him,  — within  about  two  days'  ride  of  his 
camp  —  and  that  he  should  so  soon  be  called  in 
providence  to  address  a  letter  of  condolence  to 
her  heart-stricken  parents.  Colonel  Williams 
heard  of  the  melancholy  event  almost  imme- 
diately, through  his  colleague.  Colonel  Tcheri- 
kofF,  the  Russian  commissioner,  who,  as  it  has 
been  stated,  met  the  bereaved  family,  soon  after 
they  started  on  their  return  towards  their  home. 

From  Colonel  W.  F.  Williams,  R.  A. 

^^Near  Mount  Ararat,  Sept.  Sth,  1852. 
"My   dear    Mr.    Perkins,  —  I   have   written 
fully  to-day  on  your  affairs,  to  Mr.  Coan  of  Ga- 
war.     These  few  lines  are  to  convey  to  you  the 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  163 

sincere  expressions  of  grief  and  condolence,  on 
the  part  of  myself  and  the  gentlemen  of  the  com- 
mission, on  the  lamented  death  of  your  daugh- 
ter, whose  very  amiable  character  has  been  the 
theme  of  our  conversation,  since  we  had  the 
pleasure  of  visiting  at  Seir  mountain. 

"  Beyond  the  expression  of  our  grief,  it  would 
be  ill-timed  to  offer  you  any  others.  We  feel 
sure  that  your  mind,  and  that  of  Mrs.  Perkins, 
are  infinitely  better  stored  than  ours,  with  those 
reflections  —  those  sure  and  certain  hopes,  which 
lead  to  resignation  under  such  a  dreadful  blow, 
inflicted  by  the  unerring  wisdom  of  God.  We 
therefore  abstain  from  any  such  intrusion,  but 
nevertheless,  with  a  fervent  hope,  that  you  and 
Mrs.  Perkins,  to  whom  all  join  in  kindest  regards, 
will  be  supported  under  your  sudden  and  de- 
plorable loss. 

"  Believe  me  yours  always  faithfully, 

"  W.  F.  Williams." 

From  R.  W.  Stevens,  Esquire,  British  consul 
at  Tabreez,  Persia,  a  long  tried  and  faithful 
friend  of  the  mission. 

«  Tabreez,  Sept.  17th,  1852. 
"  My  bear  Sir,  —  It  was  with  deepest  and 
most  heart-felt  grief,  that  we  received,  a  few  days 
ago,  from  Colonel  Williams,  the  melancholy  in- 


IM  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

telligence  of  the  death  of  our  dear  friend,  Miss 
Perkins ;  and  I  hasten  to  offer  you  the  expression 
of  our  condolence,  and  to  assure  you,  that  we 
sincerely  sympathize  with  you  and  Mrs.  Perkins, 
on  the  premature  removal,  from  this  world,  of  a 
person  so  promising,  and  possessing  so  many 
rare  qualities,  to  make  her  loss  a  matter  of  deep 
regret  to  yourselves,  and  to  all  who  had  the  good 
fortune  to  know  her. 

"  May  an  all-wise  providence,  in  inflicting  on 
you  so  severe  a  blow,  spare  your  remaining  son 
to  you ;  and  that  he  may  grow  up  a  pride  and  a 
blessing  to  his  parents,  is  the  prayer  of, 
"  My  dear  Sir,  yours  very  faithfully, 

"R.  W.  Stevens." 

From  George  Alexander  Stevens,  Esquire,  a 
brother  of  the  consul. 

«  Oct.  nth,  1852. 
"  My  dear  Sir,  —  "With  the  deepest  regret,  we 
learn,  from  Colonel  Williams,  the  severe  loss 
which  it  has  pleased  the  Almighty  to  inflict  on 
your  family ;  and  I  beg  to  be  allowed  to  offer 
my  heart-felt  condolence,  on  the  sad  and  mourn- 
ful event.  It  is  one  of  those  decrees  of  provi- 
dence, against  which  we  may  not  murmur,  and 
under  which  we  must  bear  up  with  patience  and 
fortitude. 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  165 

"  May  the  Almighty  grant,*  to  our  departed 
friend,  an  everlasting  abode  in  his  heavenly  king- 
dom ;  and  may  we  all  live  in  hopes  of  enjoying 
such  an  access  to  it,  as  the  one  who  has  been  so 
suddenly  summoned  away  from  us. 

"  Pray  offer  my  condolence  to  your  kind  lady, 
and  believe  me,  my  dear  sir, 

"  Yours,  very  sincerely, 

"  Geo.  Alex.  Stevens." 

From  C.  A.  Rassam,  Esquire,  British  consul 
at  Mosul. 

^' Mosul,  Dec.AtJi,  1852. 

"  My  dear  Sir,  —  Your  kind  letter  of  the  17th 
ultimo  is  before  me,  and  you  have  my  best 
thanks  for  forwarding  both  the  letters  and  cases 
to  Mr.  Brant  of  Erzroom,  and  ere  this  I  hope 
they  have  reached  Constantinople,  where  Colo- 
nel Williams  is  now  residing.  The  potatoes  we 
also  received  in  safety,  nearly  threq  weeks  ago. 

"  I  am  truly  sorry  to  hear,  that  the  cholera  is 
raging  so  fearfully  in  Tabreez,  but  more  espe- 
cially do  we  both  condole  with  Mrs.  Perkins  and 
yourself,  for  the  severe  loss  you  have  sustained, 
in  the  death  of  your  affectionate  daughter.     I 

*  This  estimable  friend  of  the  missionaries  is  a  member  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  which  will  explain  the  form  of  his  kind 
expression  of  sympathy. 


166  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

can  well  conceive,  that  the  frequent  wounds 
which  you  have  received  are  now  opened  afresh ; 
but  Christ  can  pour  into  those  wounds  oil  and 
wine,  and  be  your  Comforter.  God  in  his  infi- 
nite mercy  grant,  that  you  may  both  experience 
the  consolation  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  be  able 
to  say  with  pious  Job,  '  The  Lord  gave,  and  the 
Lord  hath  taken  away  ;  blessed  be  the  name  of 
the  Lord.' 

"  I  have  just  heard  from  Dr.  Lobdell,  that 
your  missionary  friends  in  Gawar  are  in  some 
difficulties  with  the  authorities.  If  I  can  be  of 
any  service  to  them,  I  hope  they  will  not  fail  to 
make  use  of  me. 

*'  Deacon  Joseph,  my  brother,  has  just  returned 
from  Bagdad,  and  expects  shortly  to  be  married. 
He  together  with  my  other  brothers  send  you 
their  kind  remembrance.  Mrs.  Rassam  unites 
with  me  in  much  love  to  yourself  and  Mrs.  Per- 
kins, and  your  darling  little  Henry  Martyn. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  sir,  most  sincerely 
yours, 

"  C.  A.  Rassam." 

From  Rev.  Samuel  A.  Rhea,  of  Gawar,  on  his 
arrival  at  Oroomiah,  in  ill  health. 

"  Oroomiali,  Sept  25t7i,  1852. 
"  My  dear  Brother  and  Sister,  —  I  reached 


JUDITH  G.  PERKINS.  167 

here  yesterday  evening ;  and  did  I  not  feel  weary 
and  feeble,  I  would  gladly  ride  up  and  spend  an 
hour  or  two  with  you  to-day. 

"  I  would  not,  my  beloved  but  deeply  bereaved 
friends,  even  by  allusion,  rudely  touch  those  ten- 
der chords,  which  I  know  still  vibrate  in  the 
keenest  anguish  ;  but  my  attachment  to  dear  de- 
parted Judith,  the  many  pleasant  hours  spent 
with  her,  the  no  small  share  she  added  to  ray 
happiness  in  anticipated  visits  to  Seir,  and  the 
sad  and  deeply  grieved  spirit  with  which  I  now 
visit  it,  give  me  the  liberty  to  mention  her  name. 
My  own  feelings  will  find  relief,  though  I  have 
no  hope  that  yours  will.  By  this  deeply  and  in- 
expressibly distressing  event,  with  all  its  attend- 
ing circumstances,  I  feel  that  God  has  placed 
you  beyond  the  reach  of  our  poor  sympathies. 
Our  hearts  may  bleed  with  yours,  but  we  cannot 
heal  the  bleeding  wounds.  We  can  only  sit  in 
submissive  silence,  and  feel,  '  it  is  the  Lord ; ' 
while  we  attempt,  in  our  feeble  but  most  heart- 
felt petitions,  to  beg  for  you  the  near  presence  of 
our  tender,  sympathizing  Saviour.  O  I  know 
you  have  already  felt,  and  will  continue  to  feel, 
under  you,  the  arm  of  His  love,  sustaining  you 
under  a  weight  of  sorrow  that  few  are  ever  called 
to  bear. 

"  My  heart  experienced  a  sudden  transition 
from  unspeakable  grief  to  an  overflowing  joy, 


168 


when  I  passed  from  the  sad  announcement  of 
her  death,  to  another  line,  which  led  me  to  be- 
lieve, that  your  loved  Judith  is  in  heaven,  a  glo- 
rified spirit,  resting  sweetly  on  the  bosom  of  her 
Saviour.  Then  I  thought,  '  Oh  death,  where  is 
thy  sting!  Oh  grave,  where  is  thy  victory!* 
How  soon,  if  faithful,  and  we  too  shall  be  there  ; 
and  His  tender  hand  will  wipe  all  tears  from  our 
eyes ! 

"  I  hope  to  see  you  soon,  and  till  then,  believe 
me  to  be  your  brother  in  Christ  Jesus, 

"S.  A.  Rhea." 

The  following  note,  from  Deacon  John  Hor- 
mezd,  the  Nestorian  pastor  of  Geog  Tapa,  who 
passed  several  years  of  his  childhood  in  the  fam- 
ily of  Judith's  parents,  is  inserted  as  a  specimen 
of  the  kind  sympathy,  cherished  and  expressed 
by  multitudes  of  their  Nestorian  friends.  The 
note  was  written  in  Syriac,  and  is  a  literal  trans- 
lation, as  will  naturally  be  suggested  by  its  style. 

"  To  you,  Mr.  Perkins,  my  dear  spiritual  fa- 
ther, who  brought  me  up  with  much  care,  in  the 
hope  of  rearing  in  me  a  choice  vine,  by  which 
sprouts  and  tendrils  should  be  planted  in  desert 
places,  that  had  no  precious  savor  to  sweeten 
their  souls,  which  were  seasoned  with  the  evil 
customs  and  habits  of  their  fathers,  grown  up, 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  169 

like  themselves,  without  the  instruction  of  blessed 
pious  parents,  and  without  the  kind  discipline  of 
a  disciple  of  Christ,  our  dear  Saviour,  who,  in  his 
tender  love,  made  a  scourge  of  small  cords,  with 
which  he  chastised  those  who  were  trading  in 
the  house  of  prayer : 

"  Be  it  known  to  you,  that  from  the  time  of 
Judith's  death,  of  whom  I  used  to  think  as  a 
beautiful  scion  and  precious  vine,  my  heart  burns 
with  sympathy  for  her  dear  parents  —  strangers 
in  a  strange  land,  who  have  left  their  dear  native 
country,  to  gather  the  scattered  ones  of  Zion  in 
the  region  of  Babylon. 

"  Bat  it  is  delightful  to  me  to  think  of  her  — 
to  call  her  to  remembrance,  as  a  flower  of  April, 
that  displays  its  beauty  in  its  season,  and  as  the 
rose  of  May,  that  gives  forth  its  sweet  odor  dur- 
ing a  pleasant  month,  and  then  its  end  comes, 
and  it  discontinues  that  sweet  odor.  Such  was 
your  dear  daughter.  Truly  sweet  was  her  voice, 
and  pleasant  her  conversation,  and  gentle  her 
life,  and  accomplished  her  character.  Especially 
did  I  delight  much  to  hear  her  play  on  the  sera- 
phine,  which  her  hands  plied  as  though  she  were 
a  master,  and  had  long  practised.  O  how  great 
was  my  pleasure,  when  I  used  to  hear  her  play- 
ing, and  listened  to  her  sweet  singing ! 

"  I  remember  her  well,  when  she  was  a  little 


170  THE    PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

child.  She  was  very  quiet,  and  smiling,  and 
happy ;  not  crying,  and  peevish,  and  wearisome 
to  her  parents  and  nurse. 

"  In  the  last  years  of  her  life,  how  humble  and 
how  peaceful  was  her  walk !  She  always  showed 
me  great  kindness,  when  I  met  her.  Malek  Ag-a 
beg,  and  many  others,  speak  of  her  with  much 
feeling  —  especially  of  her  sweet  music.  We 
trust  she  is  in  heaven. 

"  Your  sincere  friend, 

"John." 

Good  priest  Abraham,  an  early  friend  and 
missionary  helper  of  Judith's  parents,  evinced 
his  deep  sympathy  for  them,  and  his  heart-felt 
esteem  for  their  loved  daughter  removed,  some 
time  after  her  death,  by  modestly  and  delicately 
intimating  his  desire,  and  that  of  his  wife,  to  call 
their  infant  daughter  by  the  cherished  name  of 
Judith;  though  that  name  was  before  unused 
among  the  Nestorians.  They  had  selected  two 
names,  hitherto  unused  among  their  people,  from 
which  to  choose,  namely,  Judith,  and  Jane,  "  the 
Young  Cottager,"  the  latter  from  the  tract  bear- 
ing that  title,  not  long  ago  translated  into  the 
modern  Syriac.  Their  choice  strongly  inclined 
to  the  former,  in  case  the  bereaved  parents  of  Ju- 
dith should  have  no  objection  to  it;  and  all  such 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  171 

apprehensions  were  of  course  soon  removed, 
when  those  parents  were  apprized  of  their  wishes 
on  the  subject. 

A  son  of  priest  Abraham  was  with  the  afflicted 
family,  on  their  sorrowful  journey.  He  is  a 
pious,  interesting  young  man,  seventeen  years 
old,  who  started  to  accompany  them  to  Erzroom, 
on  his  way  to  Malta,  to  become  a  member  of  the 
protestant  college  on  that  island.  He,  as  well 
as  the  two  Nestorian  attendants  on  the  road, 
was  almost  overcome  by  the  affecting  scenes 
which  they  witnessed  ;  and  so  strong  and  mourn- 
ful were  the  impressions  which  they  made  on  his 
mind,  and  the  minds  of  his  parents,  that  they 
could  never  again  bring  their  feelings  to  the  trial 
of  his  going  so  far  from  home. 

But  very  precious  and  blessed  as  well  as  mel- 
ancholy, is  the  recollection  of  Judith's  death, 
throughout  the  Nestorian  community,  as  is  in- 
dicated not  only  by  their  deep  feelings  of  in- 
terest and  sympathy  expressed,  but  also  by  con- 
stantly occurring  incidents.  The  children  of  a 
Nestorian  Sabbath  school,  for  instance,  some 
time  after  that  event,  having  repeated  the  hymn, 
commencing, 

"  How  blest  the  rigliteoxis,  when  he  dies,"  etc., 

were  asked  by  their  superintendent,  whether  they 
had  ever  known  such  a  death ;  to  which  many 


17S  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

little  voices  instantlyresponded,  "  Yes,  JudWs.^^ 
The  sweet  savor  of  her  precious  memory  will 
long  exert  a  hallowed  influence  on  multitudes  of 
the  Nestorians. 

Another  class  in  Persia  —  the  Mohamme- 
dans—  were  not  backward  in  the  utterance  of 
their  tender  sympathy  for  the  stricken  mourners. 
From  no  one  did  the  parents  of  Judith  receive  a 
more  hearty  expression  of  condolence,  than  that 
addressed  to  them  personally,  by  their  long  tried 
friend,  Prince  Malek  Kasem  Meerza,  one  of  the 
finest  specimens  of  humanity  in  Persia,  or  any 
other  land,  who  visited  Oroomiah  and  Mount 
Seir,  not  long  after  their  daughter's  death. 
"  You  are  fast  growing  old,"  said  he  to  Judith's 
father,  and  feelingly  added,  "  Rest  assured  that 
our  grief  has  been  inexpressible,  since  we  heard 
of  your  affliction ;  but  it  is  God's  doing ;  His 
will  must  be  done."  Many  others  of  that  class 
have  shown  themselves  equally  anxious  to  com- 
fort the  sorrowing  hearts  and  cheer  the  desolation 
of  the  bereaved  ones.  The  Mohammedan  ac- 
quaintances of  the  mission,  the  mass  of  whom 
are  very  friendly  to  them,  must  not  be  judged  by 
the  cruel  inhospitality  of  the  rude  villagers  of 
Zorava,  to  whom  the  missionaries  were  strangers. 
Happily  human  sympathy  is  not  confined  within 
the  limits  of  Christianity,  either  real  or  nominal. 
"  God  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  173 

men,  for  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth ;  " 
and  among  the  grateful  proofs  of  the  truth  of 
this  Scripture  declaration,  are  remaining  traces 
of  a  strong  and  genial  common  sympathy  in 
them  all,  even  among  the  most  melancholy  and 
deplorable  ruins  of  the  fall. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

NOTES     OF     CONDOLENCE     CONTINUED. 
(from  members  of  other  missions.) 

From  Rev.  J.  Peabody,  of  Erzroom. 

^^Erzroom,  Sept  20tJi,  1852. 
"  My  dear  Brother  Perkins,  —  We  are 
greatly  distressed  for  you,  your  dear  wife,  and 
surviving  child.  I  do  not  know  when  we  have 
been  so  much  so.  We  do  feel,  that  our  Heav- 
enly Father  has  laid  his  hand  heavily  upon  you, 
and  inflicted  such  a  deep  wound  in  your  hearts, 
that  it  cannot  soon  be  healed.  We  most  sin- 
cerely sympathize  with  you,  in  the  heavy  stroke 
with  which  He  has  seen  fit  to  visit  you,  in  the 
removal  of  your  dear  only  daughter,  in  circum- 
stances so  peculiarly  trying.  The  Lord  bind  up 
your  broken  hearts,  and  heal  your  most  painful 
wounds.  To  Him  alone  can  we  commend  you,' 
and  this  we  try  to  do,  every  day.  He  alone  can 
sustain  and  comfort  you.  This  you  well  know; 
but,  oh,  how  difficult  to  feel  right,  when  over- 


THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER.  175 

whelmed  with  grief.  Perhaps,  in  this  very  se- 
vere and  mysterious  bereavement,  you  can  see 
nothing  but  clouds  and  darkness  around  the  di- 
vine throne.  But  though  you  may  walk  in  dark- 
ness now  you  shall  soon  see  light.  Truly,  the 
features  of  God's  providential  dealings  with  you 
now  are  obscure  and  intricate  ;  but  what  is  now 
dark,  shall  soon  be  illumined  ;  what  is  now  intri- 
cate, shall  soon  be  unravelled.  It  is  true,  that 
now  Providence  frowns  upon  you ;  but  God, 
behind  a  frowning  providence,  hides  a  smiling 
face. 

"  That  beloved  daughter,  we  suppose,  left  her 
mountain  home  in  perfect  health.  She  doubt- 
less anticipated  a  pleasant  visit  at  Erzroom. 
We  were  delighted  with  the  thought  of  a  visit 
from  you,  with  your  family.  O  that  the  shafts 
of  that  destroying  angel,  that  is  making  such 
havoc  in  Persia,  might  have  been  warded  off 
from  her !  O  that  she  might  have  been  spared 
to  you !  We  know  that  she  was  the  light  of 
your  eyes  and  the  joy  of  your  hearts.  But  of  this 
we  may  rest  assured,  that  our  Heavenly  Father 
doeth  all  things  well ;  that  He  does  not  willingly 
afflict  the  children  of  men ;  and  that  what  we 
know  not  now,  in  regard  to  so  trying  an  event, 
we  shall  know  hereafter. 

"  In  regard  to  the  death  of  dear  Judith,  we 
have  heard  no  particulars.     Col.  Williams  wrote 


176  THE   PERSIAN  FLOWER;   OR 

Mr.  Brant  where  it  occurred,  and  the  time  her 
distressing  sickness  continued;  nothing  more. 
We  feel  a  deep  solicitude  in  regard  to  your  health, 
and  that  of  Mrs.  Perkins  and  Henry.  May  the 
Lord  preserve  your  lives,  and  the  lives  of  all  the 
families  connected  with  you. 

"  The  Cranes  will  remain  here,  till  they  receive 
word  from  Oroomiah. 

"  Please  to  present  my  kindest  and  most  sym- 
pathizing regards  to  Mrs.  Perkins  and  Henry. 

"  I  remain  with  best  wishes  and  prayers,  your 
affectionate,  sympathizing  brother, 

"  J.  Peabody." 

From  Mrs.  M.  L.  Peabody. 

^^Erzroom,  Sept.  20th,  1852. 
"My  dear  Brother  and  Sister,  —  Need  I 
assure  you,  that  since  we  heard  of  your  deep 
affliction,  you  have  been  in  our  thoughts  day  and 
night  ?  Our  tears  have  flowed  with  yours,  and 
both  at  the  family  altar  and  in  our  private  sup- 
plications, it  has  been  our  fervent  prayer,  that  the 
balm  of  consolation  may  be  poured  into  your 
wounded  hearts.  O  my  dear  friends,  in  this, 
your  sore  trial,  how  poor  would  be  all  our  at- 
tempts to  comfort  you!  But  you  know  there 
is  One  to  whom  you  can  go ;  He  has  wounded 
and  he  can  heal. 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  177 

"  As  yet  we  know  scarcely  any  thing  of  that 
mournful  event  that  snatched  your  darlmg  Judith 
from  your  arms.  All  we  have  heard,  is  through 
a  letter  from  Col.  Williams  to  Mr.  Brant.  The 
tenderest  sympathies  of  all  seem  strongly 
awakened  for  you,  and  to  all  of  us  it  is  a  solemn 
admonition  of  Providence.  O  with  how  slight  a 
tenure  do  we  hold  our  dear  children  I  How  frail 
are  our  own  lives !  May  this  event  lead  us  to 
think  more  of  eternity  and  less  of  time  ! 

"  Our  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crane,  and  little 
Sarah  Stoddard,  are  now  with  us.  O  how  much 
pleasure  were  we  promising  ourselves  in  your 
society  also,  for  a  few  weeks !  A  sadness  is  cast 
over  all  our  little  party. 

"  Do  let  me  hear  from  you,  my  dear  Mrs.  Per- 
kins,  when  you  feel  able  to  write.  I  am  anxious 
to  hear  the  particulars  of  that  trying  scene  —  the 
last  words  of  your  dear  Judith.  We  trust  her 
sweet  spirit  is  now  in  heaven.  Dear  sister  and 
brother,  farewell.  May  the  God  of  all  consola- 
tion comfort  you. 

"  Affectionately  your  sister, 

"  M.  L.  Peabody." 

The  youthful  reader  may  like  to  be  told  some- 
thing respecting  Erzroom,  from  which  the  fore- 
going letters  were  written.     It  is  a  large  Turkish 
town,  on  a  very  elevated  plain  in  Armenia,  sur- 
12 


178  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

rounded  by  lofty  mountains.  It  i.s  more  than 
four  hundred  miles  north-west  from  Oroomiah, 
and  about  two  hundred  miles  due  west  from 
Mount  Ararat.  It  is  a  very  ancient  town,  near 
the  head  waters  of  the  western  branch  of  the  river 
Euphrates,  and  was  founded,  as  tradition  says, 
by  a  grandson  of  Noah.  It  is  the  Arz  or  Arze 
of  ancient  times,  and  took  the  affix  room,  from 
its  belonging,  at  one  period,  to  the  Greek  empire 
of  Room.  It  figures  largely  in  Armenian  history, 
and  was  for  some  time  the  capital  of  that  ancient 
kingdom.  The  American  Board  of  Missions 
commenced  a  station  there  for  the  Armenians  in 
1839.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peabody  are,  at  the  present 
time,  the  only  missionaries  at  that  station,  where 
the  good  work  is  in  cheering  progress. 

From  Rev.  P.  O.  Powers,  of  Trebizond. 

"  Trehlzond,  Sept.  2StJi,  1852. 
"  To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perkins  : 

"  My  dear  Brother  and  Sister,  —  I  scarcely 
know  whether  I  should  intrude  myself  upon  your 
sorrows,  or  like  the  friends  of  Job,  sit  in  silence 
at  a  distance  and  weep.  But  I  cannot  forbear 
expressing  to  you  how  deeply  we  have  been 
afflicted,  by  the  mournful  intelligence  that  you 
have  been  bereaved  of  a  beloved,  an  only  daugh- 
ter, and  that  under  very  trying  circumstances. 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS.  179 

We  sympathize  with  you  most  sincerely,  in  this 
afflictive  dispensation  of  divine  Providence,  and 
the  earnest  prayer  of  our  heart  is,  that  He  who  has 
wounded  may  make  whole  ;  that  as  the  sources 
of  earthly  enjoyment  dry  up,  you  may  have  freer 
access  to  the  great  fountain  head  of  a  purer, 
richer,  sweeter,  more  abiding  and  heavenly  bliss. 
You  are  not  strangers  to  affliction.  Many  times 
has  our  mother  earth  opened  to  swallow  up  your 
beloved  offspring.  I  trust  also  that  you  are  not 
strangers  to  the  divine  consolations  of  the  gospel. 
Where  shall  any  and  all  of  us  find  relief,  under  the 
many  and  painful  trials  of  this  life,  but  in  sweet 
submission  to  the  hand  that  smites  us!  That 
same  hand  carries  a  healing  virtue  along  wUh.  it. 
In  vain  do  we  look  elsewhere  for  consolation. 

"  But  you  weep.  So  Jesus  wept.  He  lets 
us  also  weep.  It  often  relieves  th-'^  throbbing 
heart.  But  it  must  be  with  such  a  quiet  spirit 
of  resignation  as  the  Saviour  ^It.  With  what 
heavenly  accents  did  he  pronounce  those  blessed 
words,  '  O  my  father,  .....  thy  will  be  done.' 
These  words  he  has  put^to  our  mouth.  They 
become  us,  as  well  as  the  bleeding  Saviour. 

"  I  long  to  hear  ^'om  your  own  pen  how  the 
Lord  is  dealing  \vith  you,  and  supporting  you 
under  your  sorrows.  I  long  also  to  know  some- 
thing of  the  particulars  of  dear  Judith's  death. 
Do  gratify  us,  dear  brother,  so  far  as  your  feelings 


180  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

may  allow  you.  Mrs.  Powers  desires  to  unite 
with  me  in  every  sentiment  of  grief  and  sympa- 
thy, and  also  in  prayers  to  the  Father  of  all  our 
mercies  in  your  behalf. 

"  With  a  kiss  from  each  of  us  for  your  sur- 
viving Henry  Martyn,  and  a  renewed  assurance 
of  love  and  sympathy  and  a  remembrance  at  the 
throne  of  grace,  I  am,  dear  brother  and  sister, 
"  Yours  very  truly  and  affectionately, 

"  P.  O.  Powers." 

Trebizond,  the  place  from  which  the  preceding 
letter  was  written,  is  on  the  south-eastern  shore 
of  the  Black  Sea,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  north-west  of  Erzroom,  and  six  hundred 
miles  east  of  Constantinople.  It  is  the  Trapezus 
of  ancient  times,  in  the  province  of  ancient  Pon- 
tus ;  where  the  Greek  general  and  historian 
Xenophon,  a^d  his  illustrious  "  ten  thousand,^^ 
reached  the  sea,  and  were  welcomed  by  their 
countrymen,  a  Gre^k  colony,  on  their  renowned 
retreat  from  Babyloi.  after  the  defeat  of  the 
younger  Cyrus.  The  American  Board  of  Mis- 
sions commenced  a  station  there  for  the  Arme- 
nians, in  1834.  Mr.  and  Mi^.  Powers  are  now 
the  only  missionaries  at  that  station,  where  they 
are  graciously  prospered  in  their  missionary 
work. 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  181 

From  Rev.  H.  G.  O.  Dwight,  D.  D.,  of  Con- 
stantinople. 

"  Constantinople,  (Orta  Keuy,)  Oct.  5th,  1852. 
"My  dear  afflicted  Brother  and  Sister, — 
I  think  it  was  nearly  twelve  years  ago,  that  two 
little  girls  sat  at  our  table,  who  were  nearly  of 
the  same  age,  and  both  of  whom  were  considered 
by  their  parents,  and  might  have  been  considered 
by  others,  as  uncommonly  lovely  and  interesting. 
More  than  five  years  since,  one  of  these,  little 
Mary,  was  suddenly  snatched  away  from  her 
parents,  and  removed  to  a  better  world,  as  we 
have  ever  fondly  hoped.  The  pang  of  sorrow, 
occasioned  by  this  sudden  and  unexpected  sepa- 
ration, is,  to  this  day,  remembered,  and  I  may 
say,  freshly  felt,  whenever  the  name  of  that  loved 
one  is  mentioned,  or  her  form  appears  before  our 
mental  vision. 

"  The  other  dear  one,  your  own  dear  Judith, 
we  have  heard  within  the  past  week,  has  been 
taken  from  you,  under  circumstances  of  uncom- 
mon aggravation.  It  is  one  of  those  cases,  in 
which,  at  first  sight,  it  seems  as  though  death, 
like  a  blood-thirsty  tyrant,  took  pleasure  not  only 
in  choosing  a  shining'  mark^  but  just  such  circum- 
stances as  would  in  the  highest  degree  harrow  up 
the  feelings  of  surviving  friends. 


182  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

"  The  eye  of  Christian  faith,  however,  sees  the 
thing  far  differently.  The  event  itself,  with  all 
the  attending  circumstances,  whatever  may  be 
their  nature  or  aggravation,  has  happened  under 
the  perfect  and  entire  control,  and  by  the  wise 
orderings,  of  our  kind  Heavenly  Father  —  the 
very  best  friend  we  have  in  all  the  universe.  Of 
course  there  is  no  mistake  in  the  thing ;  and  no 
cruelty  and  no  caprice. 

"  O  how  happy  must  you  be  now,  if  you  can 
say  from  the  bottom  of  your  hearts,  '  My  Hea- 
venly Father,  who  loves  me  with  an  infinite  love, 
has  done  all  this,  and  done  it  with  the  distinct 
end  in  view  of  promoting  my  highest  good  ! '  A 
higher  end  He  has  in  all  His  acts,  namely,  his 
own  glory ;  and  it  would  seem  that  in  each  case, 
He  chooses  for  us  and  ours,  that  kind  of  death 
which  will  most  glorify  Him.  John,  21 :  19. 
Most  blessed  of  all  must  you  be,  if  you  have  at- 
tained, by  God's  spirit,  to  that  high  elevation  of 
obedience  and  submission,  which  enables  you 
now  to  rejoice,  even  in  the  manner  of  your  loved 
one's  death,  because  by  that  God  was  more  glori- 
fied than  he  would  have  been  by  any  other. 

"  I  am  well  aware,  that  it  is  a  most  difficult 
thing  to  say  any  thing,  in  such  circumstances, 
that  really  meets  the  case ;  and  oftentimes,  in 
such  deep  sorrows,  every  thing  that  is  offered  by 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  183 

way  of  consolation,  comes  so  far  short  of  meeting 
the  spot  where  most  the  wound  is  felt,  that  it 
better  never  have  been  saicL  In  yom*  case,  how- 
ever, I  know  from  my  own  experience  that  the 
mere  expression  of  that  sympathy,  which  all  your 
missionary  brethren  and  sisters  feel,  and  deeply 
feel,  for  you,  will  operate  as  a  soothing  balm  to 
your  wounded  spirits,  however  impossible  it  may 
be  for  them  to  enter  into  the  depths  of  your  sor- 
rows. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  brother  and  sister,  be  assured, 
we  all  feel  that  your  affliction  is  ours ;  and  O 
how  gladly  would  we  do  something,  if  we  could, 
to  lighten  the  burden  of  your  griefs.  We  can 
only  commend  you  to  God,  as  we  have  done 
again  and  again,  with  bursting  hearts,  and  we 
pray  that  God  Himself  may  fill,  with  his  own 
glorious  presence,  that  '  aching  void '  in  your 
hearts,  which  has  been  caused  by  the  sudden 
removal  of  your  beloved  daughter. 

"  What  a  dark  world  would  this  be,  without 
the  gospel  of  Christ!  But  O,  how  happy  is  our 
lot,  that  we  can  look  forward  to  a  world  of  per- 
fect brightness,  where  all  the  severed  members  of 
Christ  will  be  gathered  into  one,  and  there  will 
be  no  more  separations,  and  no  more  interruption 
to  our  joys,  to  all  eternity  !  May  we  and  all  ours 
be  prepared  to  live  together  in  that  blessed 
world  I 


184  THE   PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

"Begging  a  remembrance  in  your  prayers,  I 
remain,  my  dear  brother  and  sister, 

"  Very  sincerely  yom's, 

"  H.  G.   O.  DWIGHT." 


From  Mrs.  M.  L.  Dwight. 


"  Constantinople,  Oct.  5th,  1852. 
"  My  dear  Mrs.  Perkins,  —  We  have  heard, 
through  Col.  Williams,  of  the  overwhelming 
affliction  with  which  you  have  been  visited,  and 
I  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  my  deep  sym- 
pathy in  your  sorrow.  I  do  not  expect  to  be  able 
to  comfort  you,  but  I  may  tell  you  that  I  weep 
with  you,  and  I  know  from  experience,  that  this 
is  soothing  to  the  breaking  heart.  My  heart  is 
drawn  out  to  all  bereaved  mothers,  since  I  have 
tasted  the  same  bitter  cup,  and  I  must  sympa- 
thize with  them.  But  the  circumstances  of  your 
bereavement  were  so  trying,  that  they  must  have 
given  double  poignancy  to  your  grief,  and  I 
should  expect  to  hear  that  you  were  overwhelmed 
by  the  terrible  blow,  did  I  not  know  that  the 
blessed  Saviour  is  always  present  with  His  fol- 
lowers, and  that  His  grace  is  sufficient  for  all 
circumstances.  To  His  loving  kindness  we  con- 
tinually commend  you,  and  your  dear  husband ; 
and  I  trust  that  you  are  able,  even  now,  to  sing 
of  mercy.     O  this  sympathizing,  tender  Saviour  I 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  185 

How  could  we  go  through  the  deep  waters  with- 
out Him  ?  I  can  only  hope  and  pray,  that  He 
will  manifest  the  fulness  of  His  love  to  you,  and 
then  you  will  rejoice,  even  in  this  bitter  sorrow. 

"  You  have  before  experienced  repeated  be- 
reavements ;  but  I  think  our  love  for  our  children 
grows  with  their  growth ;  if  it  is  so  with  you, 
you  will  feel  that  your  former  afflictions  were 
light,  when  compared  to  this.  But  God  has  re- 
vealed himself  as  the  God  of  all  consolation ; 
and  there  is  no  sorrow  so  great,  that  He  cannot 
comfort.     O  may  he  comfort  you ! 

"  I  have  a  vivid  remembrance  of  your  dear  de- 
parted daughter,  as  she  was  at  the  time  you 
were  here ;  and  though,  of  course,  time  had 
made  a  great  change  in  her,  I  still  think  of  her 
as  one  with  whom  I  was  acquainted.  She  was 
so  near  the  age  of  our  loved  departed  one,  that 
she  is  in  a  measure  associated  with  her  in  my 
memory. 

"  We  all  long  to  know  more  than  we  yet  know, 
of  the  circumstances  of  your  dear  child's  depart- 
ure ;  we  long  to  know  more  of  her  ;  and  we  long 
to  know  how  you  are  supported,  in  this  sore 
trial. 

"  Please  present  my  kind  regards  to  Mr.  Per- 
kins, and  assure  him  of  my  deep  sympathy. 

"  Believe  me  to  be,  most  truly,  your  friend  and 
sister, 

"M.    L.    DWIGHT." 


186  THE  PERSIAN  flower;    or 

Judith  was  seven  years  old,  when  she  heard  of 
the  death  of  little  Mary  Dwight,  who  is  referred 
to  in  the  foregoing  letters.  She  retained  a  vivid 
remembrance  of  her  acquaintance  with  that 
lovely  little  missionary  playmate,  for  a  few  days, 
though  she  had  not  seen  her  since  they  were  less 
than  three  years  old.  The  tidings  of  Mary's 
death  deeply  affected  her.  At  the  time,  she  fer- 
vently prayed  that  the  bereaved  parents  might 
be  comforted  ;  and  the  departed  one's  name  was 
often  afterward  mentioned  by  her,  with  tender 
and  aiTectionate  solemnity.  How  blessed  the 
greeting  of  their  happy,  glorified  spirits,  in 
heaven ! 

From  Rev.  William  G.  Schauffler. 

''BeheJc,  Constantinople,  Nov.  3d,  1852. 
"Rev.  J.  Perkins,  D.D.: 

"  Dear  Brother,  —  We  have  heard  of  your 
affliction  with  deep  sympathy.  We  remembered 
the  child  you  had  to  give  up,  and  endeavored  to 
realize  how  every  year  of  growth  and  develop- 
ment must  have  added  to  the  value  of  her  soci- 
ety, and  endeared  her  to  you  both,  as  she  was 
more  and  more  becoming  a  companion  to  you, 
in  your  family,  comforts  and  trials,  and  in  your 
labors.  But  we  are  aware,  that  only  actual  ex- 
perience, the  real  surrender  of  a  child  of  that  age, 


JUDITH   a.    PERKINS.  187 

can  make  us  feel  all  the  bitterness  of  such  a  cup ; 
embittered  still  more,  by  the  suddenness  of  the 
event,  and  the  desolation,  as  to  efficient  means, 
advice,  and  assistance,  in  her  treatment  and  com- 
fort for  her  last  hours. 

"  And  has  this  stroke  come  from  our  blessed 
Jesus  ?  Has  he  had  the  decision  and  disposal  of 
that  case,  and  has  he  chosen,  that  it  be  just  so  ? 
Certainly.  And  now,  is  this  event  a  proof  of  His 
unkindness,  or  unmindfalness  of  the  weal  or  wo 
of  His  children  ?  Or,  is  His  undoubted  kindness 
a  proof,  that  this  was  the  very  best  that  even  He 
could  have  done,  both  for  the  parents  and  the 
child  ?  Certainly,  the  latter  ;  whatever  we  may 
think,  or  however  our  feelings  may  rise,  or  break 
down,  or  melt,  in  view  of  such  an  event. 

"  But  you  will  see  her  again ;  and  I  trust 
there,  where  parting  scenes  and  farewell  tears 
are  unknown.  Thus  did  Lowth  write  upon  the 
gravestone  of  his  beloved  eldest  daughter,  Mftria, 
"  At  veniet  felicius  aevum,  quum  iterum  tecum, 
sim  modo  dignus.  ero,"  *  etc. ;  and  it  will  not  be 
long  either.  Our  days  have  wings,  and  these 
wings  grow  longer  and  mightier  every  day;  and 
soon  they  will  bear  us  over  into  the  world  of 
spirits,  a  time  without  time.     Then  earthly  trou- 


*  "  But  a  happier  age  will  come,  when  with  you  again,  if  only 
I  am  worthy,  I  shall  be,"  etc. 


188  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

bles  will  appear  a  short  dream,  and  our  pangs  in 
separating,  a  short,  but  very  valuable  prepara- 
tion, for  a  happy  and  eternal  reunion  with  all 
the  friends  of  our  blessed  Saviour ;  and  there,  I 
trust,  all  our  children  will  be  present;  the  chil- 
dren of  a  covenant  of  peace,  which  will  stand, 
though  mountains  should  be  removed,  and  hills 
be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea. 

"  We  shall  be  glad  to  hear,  that  dear  Mrs.  Per- 
kins has  been  sustained  and  comforted.  A  mo- 
ther's heart  is  the  tenderest  spot  of  humanity. 
But  the  consolations  of  the  gospel,  applied  by 
the  spirit  of  grace,  are  sufficient  even  for  that 
sorest  spot  of  our  nature. 

"  May  the  Lord  be  with  you,  with  the  richest, 
sweetest  comforts  within  the  stores  of  his  love. 
And  may  your  spiritual  children  be  born  as  the 
dew  of  the  morning  for  multitude,  while  your 
dear  departed  child  is  awaiting  you  in  glory, 
where  you  shall  come,  bringing  in  your  sheaves 
with  you. 

"  Yours  most  truly, 

"W.     G.    SCHAUFFLER." 

From  Rev.  Cyrus  Hamlin. 

''BeheJc,  Oct.  2Sd,  1852. 
"My  DEAR  Brother  and  Sister,  —  The  in- 
telligence of  your  affliction  filled  our  hearts  with 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  189 

amazement  and  grief.  It  seemed  like  something 
which  could  not  be  true,  the  circumstances  so 
heart-rending,  the  bereavement  so  sudden  —  so 
unlooked  for,  cutting  down  a  cherished  lovely 
daughter,  in  the  fresh  bloom  of  her  years.  All 
hearts  have  been  drawn  toward  you,  with  a  com- 
mon sympathy.  All  have  felt  like  weeping  with 
those  that  weep,  and  at  the  same  time,  have  felt 
how  vain  is  human  sympathy. 

"  Anguish  of  spirit  will  long  attend  the  recol- 
lection of  those  few  hours  of  suffering.  Still,  we 
must  stop  and  remember,  that  our  Heavenly 
Father  did  it.  It  formed  a  part  of  his  perfectly 
wise,  glorious,  merciful,  and  holy  plan  of  govern- 
ing this  world,  and  bringing  his  people  home  to 
glory.  It  was  determined  by  infinite  wisdom,  in 
all  its  circumstances,  in  every  thing  that  was  ac- 
cessory and  preparatory  to  it. 

"  I  trust  you  can  also  feel  that  that  short, 
rough  journey  of  a  few  hours  ended  in  eternal 
rest.  If  so,  this  is  enough.  Any  thing  that  ends 
in  heaven,  we  will  not  repine.  The  flesh  shrinks 
back,  and  we  beseech  our  Father  to  let  this  cup 
pass  from  us  ;  but  He  says,  '  no  ;  take  it  from 
my  hand  and  drink  it.'  My  sweet,  precious  little 
Mary  gave  me  such  a  lesson,  in  her  last  sickness, 
as  will  always  remain  in  my  heart,  through  the 
changes  of  this  dying  world.  I  offered  her  a 
nauseous  medicine ;   and  having  first  tasted  it 


190  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

myself,  I  said,  '  Now  I  shall  have  to  give  this  by 
force,  every  time  it  is  administered.'  She  re- 
jected it  with  pain  and  disgust,  as  I  anticipated. 
I  looked  sternly  at  her,  and  said  firmly,  '  My 
little  daughter  must  take  it.''  She  gave  me  a 
look  of  momentary  surprise,  and  then  swallowed 
it  down,  and  never  afterward,  (although  she  had 
to  take  it  frequently  for  four  days,)  did  she  once 
refuse.  It  almost  broke  my  heart.  She  was 
surrounded,  two  or  three  weeks,  by  prayer,  and 
tenderness,  and  medical  skill,  day  and  night; 
and  yet,  she  had  as  many  hours  of  dreadful  suf- 
fering', probably,  as  Judith  did.  Oh!  there 'is  a 
heaven  for  those  we  love.  This  thought  was 
my  stay,  when  giving  up  the  sweet  child.  I 
doubt  not  it  was  yours.  Is  it  not  sufficient  to 
make  us  silent,  submissive,  joyful,  and  happy, 
under  the  chastisements  of  our  Heavenly  Fa- 
ther ! 

"  Henrietta  has  always  remembered  Judith 
with  peculiar  interest,  and  has  felt  her  death 
deeply.  I  trust  she  also  is  a  child  of  God,  and 
if  she  should  be  taken  from  me,  I  should  sorrow 
not  as  those  without  hope.  She  is  the  image  of 
her  sainted  mother,  has  the  same  refinement  and 
bashfalness  of  character.  My  four  daughters  are 
cherished  treasures,  but  they  are  very  insecure. 

"  Death  has  been  very  busy,  of  late,  in  the 
missionary  ranks ;  Miss  Whittlesey,  Mrs.  Mor- 


JUDITH   G.   PERKIXS.  191 

gan,  Mr.  Sutphen,  Mary,  Judith,  —  all  within  a 
short  time  have  been  taken  from  us.  Our  work 
is  drawing  toward  its  close,  and  how  should  we 
be  straightened,  until  it  is  finished  ! 

"  Give  much  love  to  Mr.  and  Mrs,  Stoddard, 
and  to  all  your  circle.  Be  assured,  dear  brother 
and  sister,  you  are  constantly  remembered  in  our 
prayers,  and  have  our  deepest  sympathies.  The 
Lord  strengthen  you  to  glorify  Him  in  this  be- 
reavement. 

"  Your  affectionate  brother, 

"C.  Hamlin." 

Not  a  few  of  the  readers  of  this  memoir  will 
doubtless  recognize,  in  the  "  sainted  mother,"  re- 
ferred to  in  the  preceding  letter,  the  female  mis- 
sionary, who  died  so  peacefully  and  triumph- 
antly, in  her  solitary  situation,  surrounded  only 
by  her  stricken  husband  and  five  little  daughters, 
(we  mean,  of  earthly  friends^  for  Jesus  and  the 
angels  were  there,)  on  the  island  of  Rhodes,  in 
November,  1851.  They  will  also  have  in  mind 
the  baptism  of  the  "  little  Mary,"  whose  death  is 
mentioned  in  this  letter,  in  circumstances  most 
tender  and  affecting,  just  before  that  mother's 
departure.  "  Henrietta,"  the  eldest  of  the  "  four 
daughters,"  still  remaining,  was  just  about  Ju- 
dith's age,  and  was  one  of  her  loved  playmates, 
during  her  short  visit  at  Constantinople,  on  her 


192        THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER  ;  OR 

return  from  America  to  Persia,  whom  she  ever 
afterward  remembered,  with  affectionate  interest. 

Frorti  Rev.  N.  Benjamin. 

"  Constantinople,  Nov.  23d,  1852. 
«Rev.  J.  Perkins,  D.D.: 

"  My  dear  Brother,  —  No  ordinary  circum- 
stances would  have  prevented  my  writing  you, 
some  weeks  since,  to  assure  you  of  our  tenderest 
sympathy  for  yourself  and  dear  Mrs.  Perkins,  in 
your  late  heavy  trial.  We  received  the  first 
painful  intelligence,  when  we  were  in  the  midst 
of  our  laborious  preparations  for  removal  to  this 
city.  After  our  arrival  here,  on  the  22d  ult., 
(not  the  most  favorable  season,)  I  was  of  course 
unceasingly  occupied  in  searching  for  a  house, 
and  then  in  moving  into  it,  when  found.  Mean- 
time, I  have  been  obliged  to  keep  the  printers 
supplied  with  copy,  and  look  after  the  proofs, 
uninterruptedly. 

"  This  delay  in  writing  you,  as  I  have  had  it 
in  my  heart  to  do,  has  permitted  me  first  to  see 
your  account  of  the  painful  circumstances,  in 
which  you  were  called  to  part  with  the  darling 
of  your  hearts,  and  of  the  blessed  consolations 
with  which  the  gracious  Lord  has  supported  you. 
It  was  indeed  a  heart-rending  tale,  and  it  broke 
up  the  fountain  of  our  tears  ;  but  when  I  came 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  193 

to  the  close,  every  other  feeling  gave  place  to  the 
feeling  of  thankfulness,  for  so  sure  a  hope,  that 
your  beloved  daughter  has  become  a  partaker  of 
a  blessed  immortality.  Yes,  truly,  our  every 
affliction  here  is  '  light,'  when  compared  with  her 
'weight  of  glory,'  which  is  already  exceeding^ 
and  will  be  eternal.  '  Thanks  be  unto  God,  for 
his  unspeakable  gift.' 

"  My  dear  brother,  is  it  not  a  privilege  to  have 
children  in  heaven  ?  I  trust  I  have  one  there. 
He  died  an  infant,  but  he  is  wiser  than  all  phi- 
losophers and  holier  than  all  prophets  and  apos- 
tles ever  were,  in  this  world.  May  it  be  our 
happiness  to  join  these  dear  ones,  in  the  Lord^s 
good  time.  Let  us  use  all  diligence  first  to  fin- 
ish our  work. 

"  I  feel  nearer  to  you  here  than  I  did  at  Smyr- 
na, and  shall  enjoy  hearing  from  your  mission 
more  frequently  and  more  particularly,  than  we 
have  heretofore  heard. 

"  The  Lord  has  favored  us  much  in  our  mov- 
ing, the  weather  having  been  unusually  fine,  so 
that  we  still  dispense  with  fires.  I  still  carry  on 
some  printing  at  Smyrna,  and  hope  soon  to  be- 
gin here. 

"  Mrs.  B.  desires  with  me  much  love  to  Mrs. 
Perkins,  and  to  your  little  boy,  as  well  as  to 
yourself,  and  in  the  assurance  of  her  tenderest 
13 


194        THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER  I  OR 


sympathy.      Please  remember  us  kindly  to  all 
the  friends  at  your  station. 

"  Most  truly  yours, 

"N.  Benjamin." 

Constantinople  and  its  vicinity,  from  which 
several  of  the  preceding  notes  were  written,  are 
doubtless  well  known,  even  to  the  youthful  read- 
er, especially  to  those  familiar  with  the  history  of 
the  glorious  reformation  in  progress  among  the 
Armenians  of  Turkey.  It  was  at  the  capital,  that 
that  reformation  commenced,  about  twenty  years 
ago,  under  the  divine  blessing  on  the  labors  of 
Messrs.  Goodell,  Dwight,  and  Schauffler,  and  it 
has  rapidly  radiated  thence,  in  every  direction, 
till  its  light  has  reached  and  blessed  here  and 
"there  a  spot,  not  few,  nor  far  between,  to  the 
remotest  bounds  of  that  great  empire. 

From  Rev.  S.  H.  Calhoun,  of  the  Syrian  mis- 
sion, who  was  at  Smyrna  when  he  wrote. 

'^  Smyrna,  Oct.  16th,  1852. 
"My  dear  Brother, —  I  have  heard  of  your 
affliction,  and  cannot  refrain  from  sending  you 
and  sister  P.  a  word  of  sympathy.  The  event 
has  saddened  every  heart  among  us.  The  cir- 
cumstances of  the  death  of  your  dear  child  were 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  195 

in  the  last  degree  distressing,  so  far  away  from 
home,  and  medical  skill,  and  the  presence  of 
kindred  spirits.  But  One  was  near,  whose  heart 
is  love,  and  whose  arm  is  power.  In  that  soli- 
tary place.  He  was  bending  over  you,  and  deal- 
ing with  you,  not  as  aliens,  but  as  children ;  chas- 
tening, yet  as  a  parent  chasteneth  his  own  son 
in  whom  he  delighteth ;  wounding,  yet  only  to 
bind  up  with  his  own  band  of  tenderness. 

"  May  you,  my  dear  brother  and  sister,  be  sup- 
ported in  this  hour  of  grief.  May  you  find  the 
promises  sweet,  and  be  enabled  to  repose  on 
them.  May  you  have  such  manifestations  of 
our  gracious  Lord,  that  your  hearts  shall  rejoice. 
I  know  that  human  words,  at  such  times,  are 
powerless ;  and  yet  I  thought  it  might  comfort 
you  to  know,  that  your  brethren  in  the  flesh  are 
not  unmindful  of  your  sorrows,  and  bear  you  on 
their  hearts  to  the  throne  of  grace. 

"  I  am  here  on  my  way  to  Syria,  from  Con- 
stantinople, where  I  have  been  spending  a  few 
weeks,  in  hope  of  recruiting  my  health,  which 
has  been  considerably  impaired  daring  the  past 
summer.  Mrs.  Calhoun  would  unite  with  me, 
(were  she  here,)  in  affectionate  regards  to  Mrs. 
P.  and  yourself. 

"  Will  you  remember  me  fraternally  to  all 
your  associates. 

•"  Your  ever  affectionate  brother  in  the  Lord, 

"S.    H.    CllLHOUN." 


196  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

The  writer  of  the  foregoing  note,  as  is  proba- 
bly known  to  the  reader,  is  stationed  at  Abieh, 
on  Mount  Lebanon  —  that  "  goodly  mountain" 
of  cedars,  so  often  mentioned  in  the  Psalms  and 
other  parts  of  the  Bible.  There  he  has  a  semi- 
nary, to  train  up  Syrian  youth,  to  become 
preachers  of  salvation,  in  the  land  where  the  Sa- 
viour labored,  suflfered,  and  died. 

From  Rev.  Benjamin  Schneider,  of  Aintab. 

"  Aintah,  Oct.  26tJi,  1852. 
"  My  dear  Brother  and  Sister  Perkins,  —  I 
snatch  a  few  moments  to  send  you  a  few  expres- 
sions of  condolence,  in  your  recent  sore  bereave- 
ment. I  have  not  seen  Mr.  Perkins's  letter,  or 
circular,  containing  the  particulars ;  yet  the  bare 
fact  of  the  sudden  stroke,  while  travelling  in  these 
rude  lands,  far  from  the  comforts  and  conveni- 
ences of  home,  must  indeed  be  a  trial.  I  sym- 
pathize with  you,  dear  brother  and  sister. 
Though  never  called  to  drink  so  bitter  a  cup,  I 
am  a  parent,  and  know  well  how  keenly  you 
must  feel  the  stroke.  But  He  who  has  wounded 
can  also  heal.  As  you  are  not  mourners  without 
hope,  there  is  certainly  great  solace  in  the  afflic- 
tion. When  I  hear  of  the  death  of  a  child,  my 
first  query  is,  '  Was  it  probably  a  moral  agent  ? ' 
or,  '  Did  it  give  evidence  of  piety  ? '     If  these  in- 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  IW 

quiries  can  be  answered  favorably,  then  I  always 
feel  like  speaking  words  of  consolation  to  the 
weeping  mourners.  And  as  you  have  such  a 
hope,  I  understand,  respecting  your  dear  departed 
one,  I  w^ould  remind  you  of  the  gain  she  has 
found,  in  your  loss.  She  is  but  gone  before  you, 
and  you  may  expect  soon  to  rejoin  her.  O  if 
our  children  are  but  safe,  through  grace,  safe 
while  living,  and  saved  when  dying,  I  feel  that  it 
is  comparatively  of  little  moment,  whether  they 
are  with  us  a  longer  or  shorter  time.  If  they  and 
we  are  but  gathered  at  last,  into  the  great  family 
above,  what  matters  it  which  go  first  ?  How 
soon  we  shall  all  follow  those  who  have  preceded 
us !  They  are  going  one  after  another,  and 
some  of  those  we  love  must  go  before  us. 

"  I  know  your  hearts  will  bleed  ;  for  it  is  not 
the  first  bereavement.  But,  dear  brother  and 
sister,  remember  that  it  is  the  hand  of  love  that 
has  smitten ;  and  you  will  one  day  see,  how  an 
event,  so  trying  in  its  nature,  could  have  been  all 
in  mercy.  The  Lord  be  your  consolation  and 
comfort. 

"  You  have  doubtless  heard,  that  Mrs.  Schnei- 
der, and  our  two  daughters,  and  two  of  our  sons, 
have  gone  to  America,  the  youngest  remaining 
with  me.  They  have  arrived  safely,  and  had  a 
blessing  on  the  voyage.     Mrs.  S.  found  her  aged 


198  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

parents  still  living,  and  overjoyed  to  see  her  and 
her  children. 

"  Much  love  to  all  your  missionary  circle. 
"  Yours  most  truly, 

"B.  Schneider." 

Aintab,  the  Turkish  town  from  which  this  note 
was  written,  is  in  the  south-eastern  part  of  Asia 
Minor,  some  forty  or  fifty  miles  north  of  Aleppo, 
in  Syria.  Its  name,  in  Arabic,  signifies  "  good 
spring,"  and  is  applied  to  the  place,  on  account 
of  the  many  fine  springs  of  water  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  town.  It  is  at  present  the  scene  of  a  re- 
formation, among  the  Armenian  inhabitants, 
more  rapid  in  its  progress  and  interesting  in  its 
character,  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  Armenian 
field. 

From  Rev.  W.  F.  Williams,  of  Mosul. 

"Mosul,  Oct.  2d,  1852. 
"My  dear  afflicted  Brother,  —  How  sad 
a  budget  came  to  our  hands,  by  the  messenger 
this  time !  How  deeply  I  sympathize  with  you, 
in  this  your  desolating  bereavement,  you  your- 
self already  know ;  for  you  too  acknowledge  the 
same  injunction,  to  'weep  with  those  that  weep, 
and  rejoice  with  those  who  rejoice.^ 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  199 

"  Of  the  loved  one  departed,  I  know  only  the 
name  and  the  narrative  of  your  '  memorandum; ' 
but  it  does  not  need  a  personal  acquaintance  in 
order  to  stir  up  the  deep  fountains  of  sympathy. 
Though  in  the  flesh  a  stranger  to  you  all,  with 
no  idea  of  form  or  feature,  figure  or  face,  yet  to 
the  mind's  eye,  you  each  and  all  are  individuali- 
ties, personalities,  not  simply  fragments  of  aggre- 
gate humanity ;  and  in  my  heart's  warmth,  you 
each  have  a  place.  And  though  the  shape  of 
room,  the  contour  of  externalities,  lie  indistinct 
and  undefined,  there  yet  is  before  me  a  vivid  pic- 
ture of  a  family  desolate,  (oh  what  meaning  that 
one  word  carries,  desolate^)  a  place  vacant ;  hearts 
yearning  after  that  they  no  more  reach  ;  anguish 
welling  up  and  overflowing  at  sight  of  some  re- 
membrance—  some  object,  so  linked  with  the 
absent  one  as  to  be  forever  and  indelibly  asso- 
ciated. 

"  I  see  a  landscape  lying  just  before  you  in  the 
future,  all  sunshine  and  joy ;  hill  and  dell,  with 
flowing  glen,  around  which  cluster  all  pleasant 
hopes  and  fond  anticipations ;  amid  which  shall 
gently  pass  life's  closing  labors  and  ending 
scenes  ;  and  lo  I  at  its  very  entrance,  it  is  over- 
cast with  portentous  clouds,  and  in  an  instant, 
there  remains  only  desolation.  That  pleasant 
prospect,  opening  into  the  future,  is  annihilated. 
And  yet  I  hear  from  the  lowest  depths  of  your 


200  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

stricken  soul,  '  It  is  well ; '  for  He  hath  done  it 
who  '  doeth  all  things  well.'  This  is  the  Chris- 
tian's confidence  in  his  God,  his  Father ;  '  Though 
He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him.'  The  earthly 
paradise  is  exchanged  for  a  heavenly.  That 
which  was  so  sweet  to  hope  in  the  future  —  the 
decline  of  life  —  is  cheerfully  resigned,  the  soul 
borne  up,  sustained,  nay  more,  is  triumphant,  in 
the  certain  assurance,  that  it  is  but  for  a  time  the 
vision  fades,  that  it  may  reappear,  purer,  brighter, 
eternal. 

"  We  know  in  whom  we  have  believed ;  and 
that  He  is  able  to  keep  that  which  we  have  com- 
mitted unto  Him,  against  'the  judgment  of  the 
great  day  ; '  and  so  your  loss  becomes  not  only 
her^  but  your  gain,  because  'it  worketh  for  you 
the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness ; '  since  '  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  who  love 
God;'  and  most  of  all,  'these  light  afflictions 
which  endure  but  for  a  moment,'  in  comparison 
with  '  the  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight 
of  glory,'  to  which  they  point  our  eyes. 

"  Thus  are  all  things  true  blessings  to  the 
Christian ;  and  here  only  is  the  value  of  human 
sympathy  in  bereavement,  in  that  with  us  it  lifts 
the  tearful  eye  to  the  cross  of  Christ ;  and  doing 
this,  how  precious  is  its  kindness,  how  tender  and 
soothing  its  power!  May  He,  who  has  given 
you  this  effective  proof  of  sonship,  in  that  He 


JUDITH   G.   PERKIXS.  201 

has  taken  from  yoa  your  idol,  your  beloved,  in 
that  He  has  counted  you  worthy  of  chastisement, 
in  the  same  love  spare  to  you  your  remaining 
child,  and  gladden  your  hearts  by  permitting  you 
to  see  him  eminently  useful  in  the  Master's  vine- 
yard, and  at  length  gather  you  all  —  'a  whole 
family  in  heaven.' 

"  With  hearty  sympathy  and  good  wishes  I 
must  close. 

"  Yours, 

"  W.  F.  Williams." 

Mosul,  from  which  the  preceding  letter  was 
written,  is  situated  on  the  western  bank  of  the 
river  Tigris,  just  opposite  the  ruins  of  ancient 
Nineveh,  whose  marble  palaces  are  now  in  pro- 
cess of  excavation  under  the  direction  of  Col. 
Rawlinson,  and  whose  records,  inscribed  on  the 
vast  marble  tablets  that  line  the  halls  of  those 
palaces,  afford  astonishly  interesting  confirmation 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  for  instance,  records  of 
the  impious  Sennacherib's  attempted  invasion  of 
Jerusalem,  in  the  days  of  king  Hezekiah.  This 
ancient  capital  of  the  "  Assyrian  empire,"  is  now 
the  seat  of  "  the  Assyrian  mission  "  of  the  Amer- 
ican Board,  to  the  Jacobites,  and  the  "  Chal- 
deans," i.  e.  the  Papal  Nestorians. 

In  this  chapter,  we  have  thus  accidentally  per- 
formed a  hasty  circuit,  starting  from  Oroomiah 


202 

and  proceeding  north-west  to  the  Black  Sea, 
westward  to  Constantinople,  thence  southward 
to  Syria,  and  thence  back  eastward  to  the  Tigris, 
to  the  station  nearest  to  the  Nestorian  mission, 
about  three  hundred  miles  distant  from  Judith's 
home.  We  have  introduced  the  notes  of  condo- 
lence, from  deeply  sympathizing  missionary  fel- 
low-laborers, on  this  long  circuit  of  thousands  of 
miles,  that  were  written  within  a  few  weeks,  and 
happened  to  reach  her  stricken  parents  within 
three  months  after  her  death,  in  a  country  where 
there  is  neither  electro-magnetic  telegraph,  nor 
steam,  and  only  a  monthly  English  mail,  carried 
by  a  horseman,  to  enable  them  to  communicate 
with  those  distant  stations  and  with  the  civilized 
world.  Another  three  months  would  doubtless 
add  many  to  the  list  of  these  affectingly  inter- 
esting epistles,  from  brethren  and  sisters  at  the 
same  or  still  other  stations.  Enough,  however, 
have  been  introduced,  to  impress  the  reader  with 
the  truth,  that  there  is  a  blessed  reality  in  "the 
communion  of  saints,"  far  enough  from  the  pale 
of  Roman  Catholic  exclusion,  or  Puseyite  as- 
sumption,—  that  there  is  a  cord  of  sympathy 
and  love,  that  binds  together  the  hearts  of  be- 
lievers, and  especially  of  missionaries,  whether 
known  or  unknown  personally  to  each  other,  as 
sensitive  as  the  electric  wire,  and  infinitely  more 
stable,  enduring,  and  sure ;  and  a  cord,  so  far  from 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  203 

being  limited  to  any  single  circuit  like  the  one 
here  embraced,  which  extends  to  earth's  extremest 
bounds,  wherever  a  child  of  God  is  found,  and 
upward  to  the  heart  of  Christ,  its  centre  and  its 
source. 

Such  was  the  cord  of  sympathy  and  interest, 
by  which  Judith  was  encircled  while  she  lived, 
and  such  is  the  cord  which  so  tenderly  vibrates 
for  the  bleeding  hearts  of  her  parents,  when 
touched  by  the  tidings  of  her  death.  How 
strikingly  and  how  beautifully  is  the  apostolic 
declaration  here  illustrated,  that  if  "  one  mem- 
ber "  of  the  Saviour's  body  "  suffer,  all  the  mem- 
bers suffer  with  it." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


CONCLUSION. 


We  have  mentioned  the  estimation  in  which 
Judith  was  held  by  the  Nestorians,  and  have  al- 
luded particularly  to  her  interest  in  the  Female 
Seminary,  and  the  place  she  occupied  in  the 
hearts  of  its  pupils.  And  it  is  perhaps  appro- 
priate, that  one  at  least  of  the  females  of  the  peo- 
ple among  whom  she  was  born  and  dwelt,  for 
whose  salvation  she  longed  and  prayed,  and,  so 
far  as  a  child  could  do  it,  labored,  and  by  whom 
she  was  so  tenderly  beloved,  should  be  allowed, 
in  her  own  way,  to  testify  her  regard  for  Judith, 
in  this  memoir.  The  following  is  a  letter  of  con- 
dolence from  one  of  the  pupils  of  the  Nestorian 
Female  Seminary,  to  the  bereaved  parents.  The 
writer  is  Nargis^  whose  name,  in  the  languages 
of  Persia,  is  the  name  of  a  favorite  garden  flow- 
er, and  in  this  instance,  very  aptly  characterizes 
the  lovely,  refined  young  lady  who  bears  it. 
Having  heard  of  Henry's  using  the  expression  in 
regard  to  his  departed  sister,  ^'■she  will  rise  againj'' 
Nargis  worked  that  expression  neatly  on  a  book- 


THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER.  205 

mark  for  his  Bible,  and  sent  it  to  him  with  her 
letter  to  his  parents.  The  letter,  though  long,  is 
of  too  touching  interest  to  weary  the  reader.  It 
was  written  in  Syriac,  and  is  translated  as  lite- 
rally as  a  readable  translation  would  bear.  The 
writer  is  a  member  of  the  senior  class  in  the 
seminary,  who  spent  the  last  summer  of  Judith's 
life  in  Gavalan,  and  was  there,  when  her  lifeless 
remains  passed  that  village  on  the  way  to  their 
last  resting-place. 

From  Nargis. 

"  Dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perkins, —  For  a  long 
time  I  have  had  it  in  my  heart,  with  melancholy 
thoughts  and  mournful  pen,  and  paper  laden 
with  sadness,  to  make  known  to  you,  how  much 
I  have  shared  with  you  in  your  bitter  grief  and 
painful  sorrows ;  for  whom?  oh,  how  can  I  men- 
tion her  name !  for  your  daughter,  snatched  so 
suddenly  from  your  midst !  But  I  have  not  ven- 
tured to  do  it,  and  thus  it  has  remained  until 
Miss  Fisk  encouraged  me  to  write  you. 

"  Although  it  is  very  painful  to  call  to  remem- 
brance the  lamented  death  of  that  dear  friend, 
who  has  gone  to  return  not  again,  —  who  has 
been  taken  from  the  midst  of  us  and  will  appear 
here  no  more,  I  still  desire  to  write  you  respect- 
ing her,  especially,  when  I  remember  how  she 


206        THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER  ;  OR 

used  to  speak  of  her  love  for  her  parents,  and 
know,  that  if  it  be  that  she  is  looking  down  from 
heaven,  she  would  greatly  rejoice,  should  I  write 
something  that  would  contribute,  even  a  little,  to 
comfort  the  broken  hearts  of  her  parents  w^hom 
she  so  much  loved. 

"  My  beloved  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perkins, 
perhaps  you  are  not  aware,  that  for  the  last  four 
years,  and  more,  I  have  cherished  a  peculiar  love 
and  friendship  for  Judith,  and  she  for  me  ;  and 
though  several  months  have  passed  since  she 
died,  it  still  seems  to  me  as  though  it  were  this 
very  minute.  O  that  you  knew  how  deep  is  my 
grief  for  her,  my  sorrow  and  my  sadness !  When 
I  look  on  her  notes  which  are  with  me,  I  cannot 
restrain  my  tears ;  and  when  I  call  her  to  re- 
membrance, I  cannot  keep  my  mind  from  think- 
ing of  her.  Very  often,  she  is,  as  it  were,  before 
my  eyes,  entering  the  girls'  seminary,  with  the 
deportment  of  a  grown  up  lady.  I  remember 
with  what  light  footsteps  she  would  go  to  her 
place ;  and  I  call  to  mind  how,  on  the  wings  of 
application,  she  would  go  forward  with  her  les- 
sons ;  and  I  forget  not  her  reading  in  the  first 
class  —  how  we  were  astonished  at  her  learning 
the  Syriac  language. 

"  Truly  hard  and  bitter  is  it  for  me,  to  call  to 
remembrance  the  removal  of  a  friend  so  beloved. 
Yes,  and  it  wounds  my  heart  when  I  look  upon 


JUDITH  G.  PERKINS.  207 

you,  her  parents,  when  you  come  to  the  city,  but 
Judith  not  with  you;  and  when  I  behold  her 
brother,  and  no  sister  with  him  ;  and  when  I  see 
the  children  of  the  missionaries  going  to  school, 
but  Judith  cometh  not ;  for  she  has  finished  her 
studies  forever.  The  Lord  comfort  your  hearts, 
ye  afflicted  parents. 

"Dear  missionaries  from  America,  I  have 
thought,  that  perhaps  you  would  like  to  have  me 
tell  you  some  things  which  I  have  observed  in 
Judith.  During  the  last  year,  I  have  not  seen 
her  much,  except  occasionally ;  but  one  thing 
which  I  have  seen  in  her  is  this  ;  in  other  years, 
although  Judith  was  very  exemplary,  and  had 
learned  good  habits,  yet  she  seemed  to  have  only 
the  form  of  Christianity ;  but  the  past  year,  she 
has  appeared  as  though  pictured  before  the  eyes 
of  all  the  girls  of  the  seminary,  and  a  perfect 
model  of  a  Christian  has  been  seen  in  her.  This 
was  evident  to  us  from  her  walk  and  conversa- 
tion, and  from  her  love  to  others,  and  her  consis- 
tent character.  Blessed  are  the  parents  who 
have  such  a  daughter  as  she,  prepared  to  dwell 
in  heaven,  with  the  Father  and  the  Son  I 

"  O  ye  stricken  parents,  your  sweet  daughter 
is  before  my  eyes,  when  she  came  to  Gavalan  to 
meet  Miss  Harris.  Alas,  she  knew  not  how  soon 
she  would  sadden  her !  And  before  my  vision  is 
that  delicate  form,  when  she  went  out  to  walk 


208  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER*,    OR 

with  the  girls  on  the  hills  of  Gavalan.  And 
when  we  tried  to  see  who  would  first  reach  the 
tops  of  those  hills,  that  little  girl,  in  her  nimble 
activity,  was  up  as  soon  as  the  Nestorian  girls. 
Oh,  I  remember  the  time,  when  she  came  to  go 
on  that  journey  which  was  so  deeply  to  distress 
her  parents.  I  remember  how  rejoiced  I  was, 
when  I  heard  that  Judith  had  come.  After  a  lit- 
tle time,  I  entered  the  room  and  saw  Judith  there, 
and  we  kissed  each  other.  We  thought  not  that 
it  was  our  last  kiss. 

"  The  last  morning,  when  you  were  to  depart, 
Judith  rose  earlier  than  the  Nestorian  girls,  and 
came  upon  the  terrace  just  as  I  was  getting  up. 
She  waked  the  girls,  saying  that  Miss  Fisk  de- 
sired them  to  rise.  I  said, '  Judith,  why  have  you 
risen  so  early  ? '  She  joyously  answered,  '  that  I 
may  be  ready  to  go.'  I  remember,  when  I  said 
to  her,  '  Will  you  call  and  see  us  again  ? '  so 
wakeful  was  her  conscience,  that  she  recollected 
her  father's  word  and  said,  '  No,  my  papa  gave 
me  permission  to  go  now  wherever  I  wish  ;  so  I 
have  come  to  see  you  now.'  We  conversed  a 
little  while  about  her  going  to  America  after 
some  years,  and  she  said,  '•  If  it  may  be  that  I 
come  here  again,  I  will  labor  for  the  Nestorians, 
where  there  are  no  laborers.^^  Oh,  that  was  our 
last  conversation  until  death  ! 

"Dear  friends,  that  Sabbath  day,  when  the 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  209 

letter  was  brought  to  Mr.  Stocking,  conveying 
the  intelligence  of  her  death,  I  little  thought  that 
she  whom  I  so  much  loved  would  be  separated 
from  me  all  the  days  of  my  life.  Oh,  what  an- 
guish I  felt  on  that  day  I  With  longing,  I  said 
to  myself,  '  would  that  I  were  even  now  with  Ju- 
dith!' The  following  night  seemed  very  long 
to  me  ;  and  when  I  rose  on  the  morning  of  Mon- 
day, and  it  was  said,  '  they  are  coming,'  in  deep 
distress  I  stood,  to  see  if  indeed  Judith  had  died 
that  strange  death.  Suddenly,  her  parents  en- 
tered, without  their  daughter  I  How  bitter  was 
that  sight !  And  now  came  that  delicate  dam- 
sel, borne  as  the  dead  are  borne,  in  company 
with  the  attendants.  O  beloved  parents  of  Ju- 
dith, if  my  failing  pen  should  make  the  attempt, 
it  could  not  express  my  anguish  at  that  time ! 
It  was  so  hard  for  me  to  believe  that  she  was 
really  dead,  that  I  requested  Miss  Fisk,  that  if  it 
were  possible,  we  might  be  permitted  to  see  her. 
So  we  went  to  the  tent  of  the  dear  dead  one, 
which  was  pitched  without,  away  from  the 
friends,  and  I  stood  at  her  head  and  wept.  It 
still  seemed  to  me  that  that  same  rosy  counte- 
nance was  speaking  to  me ;  and  with  a  heavy 
heart,  I  asked  Miss  Fisk,  if  we  could  not  see  her 
face.  Gently  replying,  she  said,  '  That  rosy  face 
which  you  have  seen,  remains  no  longer.'  Deep 
anguish  seized  me,  and  I  went  straight  away, 
14 


^10  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;     OR 

remembering  the  steps  over  which  Judith  had 
walked,  and  with  difficulty  could  I  again  look  in 
the  direction  where  that  tent  was  pitched. 

"  Beloved  friends,  hearing  about  the  village 
near  which  you  encamped,  almost  made  me  say, 
let  the  name  of  the  place  be  blotted  out,  which 
had  not  in  it  one  inerciful  man^  in  the  time  of  a 
stranger's  death. 

"  But  how  delightful  is  now  the  remembrance 
of  the  mountains  of  Ararat,  when  I  recollect  that 
Judith  rejoiced  over  them.  I  implore  the  winds 
of  the  mountains  of  Ararat,  to  blow  gently  on 
the  last  foot-tracks  of  beloved  Judith!  And  I 
entreat  that  morning  star,  on  which  Judith  looked 
with  such  delight,  that  its  sparkling  rays  may 
fall  tenderly  on  her  peaceful  grave. 

"  Gone  is  the  loved  girl !  Her  life  is  now 
woven  into  the  warp  of  eternity !  Her  face  we 
shall  see  no  more  on  earth ! 

*'  True  it  is,  that  deep  is  your  grief.  Your 
sorrow  is  like  the  sorrow  of  Jeremiah,  and  your 
endurance  like  the  patience  of  Job.  May  Jeho- 
vah, who  healed  the  sorrows  of  David,  heal  your 
sore  wounds ! 

"  Stricken  parents,  bereft  of  your  daughter, 
submissive  under  the  hand  of  Him  for  whose 
sake  you  have  come  from  one  end  of  the  world 
to  the  other,  I  hope  you  will  accept  this  hook- 
mark^  for  your  dear  only  son  Henry,  to  place  in 


JUDITH    G.    PERKINS.  211 

his  Bible.  Please  let  him  put  it  in  the  place 
where  you  read  together,  when  you  assemble 
around  the  family  altar ;  when  you  are  all  seated, 
each  in  his  chair,  but  one  seat  is  empty ;  when 
you  read,  but  her  siueet  voice  is  not  heard.  When 
you  thus  kneel  down,  and  she  is  not  with  you^  let 
this  book-mark  remind  her  little  brother,  that 
SHE  WILL  RISE  AGAIN.  Ycs,  that  day  for  which 
he  longed,  he  will  behold,  when  the  Saviour  of 
the  lost  shall  raise  up  again  his  sister,  with  eter- 
nal joy. 

"  Dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perkins,  sojourners  in  a 
stranger  land,  our  hearts  will  still  go  out  with 
yours,  and  our  sorrow  with  your  sorrow.  Truly, 
dear  friends,  it  causes  our  hearts  to  melt,  when  we 
think  how  great  a  distance,  how  many  miles  and 
leagues,  intervene  between  you  and  your  loved 
native  country.  We  know  that  it  would  have 
been  pleasant  for  you  to  have  remained  there, 
surrounded  by  loving  friends.  But  '  I  am  '  will 
not  forget  your  self-denials,  and  your  love  for  the 
lost ;  and  though  your  children,  like  faded  flow- 
ers, lie  scattered  around  you,  the  Lord  Almighty 
will  certainly  gather  them  from  every  place  where 
they  are  buried ;  and  He  will  multiply  to  you 
children  from  among  the  Nestorians,  and  make 
them  a  company  of  the  redeemed,  prepared  to 
dwell  in  heaven  forever.  And  then  you,  with 
your  assembled  family,  will  commence  singing 


212        THE  PERSIAN  FLOWER  ;  OR 

the  song  of  Moses,  and  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  ; 
and  that  day  is  near  at  hand. 

"  From  your  sorrowing  friend, 

"  Nargis." 

In  a  note  from  Miss  Fisk  to  Judith's  father, 
which  accompanied  the  foregoing  letter,  she 
says,  "  It  has  been  a  very  great  gratification  to 
Nargis  to  be  allowed  to  write  you.  Her  love 
for  our  dear  Judith  was  very  strong,  and  she 
never  speaks  of  her  without  tears.  Her  idea  of 
Judith's  Christian  character  is  her  own,  and  not 
in  any  way  derived  from  us.  Other  girls  feel 
just  as  she  does,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  see  them 
feel  so.  They  do  not  make  hers  a  death-bed  re- 
pentance ;  and  I  feel  that  their  testimony  to  her 
love  of  Christian  conversation,  is  very  delightful 
evidence  that  she  carried  a  Saviour  ever  with  her." 

A  few  days  after  the  return  of  the  bereaved 
family,  from  the  fatal  journey,  to  their  desolate 
home,  Mr.  Stoddard  started  for  Erzroom,  to  meet 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crane,  and  his  little  daughter. 
Near  the  place  of  Judith's  death,  he  wrote  the 
following  note  to  her  parents. 

''Near  Zorava,  Sept.  17 tJi,  1852. 
"My  afflicted  Brother  and  Sister,  —  You 
have  scarcely  been  out  of  my  mind,  all  day  long. 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  21S 

On  leaving  the  caravanserai,  this  morning,  to 
pursue  my  journey,  my  eyes  immediately  fell  on 
the  spring,  where  you,  with  Judith  and  Henry, 
sat  down  to  eat  your  breakfast,  just  two  weeks 
ago.  As  I  wound  my  way  up  the  mountain,  I 
thought  of  Judith's  impatience,  as  she  went  over 
the  same  road,  to  see  the  '  father  of  mountains.' 
And  when  I  reached  the  top,  and  the  fatal  road 
lay  mapped  out  at  my  feet,  my  heart  was  full, 
and  I  could  only  say  over  and  over  again,  '  God 
comfort  my  dear  brother  and  sister.' 

"  We  descended  the  mountain,  remembering 
with  what  elastic  step  Judith  descended  the  same 
declivity.  Both  Hormezd  and  the  muleteer 
pointed  out  the  rock,  near  which  you  stopped, 
the  last  time,  and  took  some  refreshment.  Af- 
terwards, Hormezd  spoke  out  suddenly,  as  I  was 
riding  in  advance,  and  said,  '  Here  Judith  first 
knew  that  she  had  the  cholera.'  From  that  place 
to  Zorava,  is  a  long  and  weary  way,  and  I  could 
imagine  how  anxiously  your  eyes  traced  out  one 
turn  after  another,  in  hope  that  you  would  soon 
reach  the  village.  I  saw,  as  I  passed,  almost 
with  shuddering,  the  fatal  spot  where  you  hung 
over  the  dying  bed  of  Judith,  and  resigned  her  to 
Him  who  called  her  from  your  arms.  I  would 
have  stopped  at  Zorava  for  the  night,  and  medi- 
tated and  prayed  on  that  melancholy  yet  now 
hallowed  spot ;  but  I  remembered  the  cruelty  of 


214  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;     OR 

the  villagers  to  you,  in  your  time  of  distress,  and 
turned  hastily  away. 

"  Be  assured,  dear  brother  and  sister,  you  have 
my  constant  sympathy  and  my  earnest  prayers. 
I  cannot  comfort  you  myself,  but  I  can  refer  you 
to  the  true  source  of  consolation.  Go  to  the 
Saviour,  and  He  will  wipe  away  your  tears,  and 
fill  you  with  sweet  peace. 

'•  Yours  affectionately, 

"D.  T.  Stoddard." 

At  Erzroom,  Mr.  Stoddard,  in  writing  to  Dr. 
Anderson,  Secretary  of  the  American  Board  of 
Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions,  alludes 
thus  to  Judith's  death.  "  The  very  affecting  nar- 
rative which  accompanies  this,  will  inform  you, 
far  better  than  I  can  do,  of  the  severe  affliction 
of  our  dear  brother  and  sister,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Per- 
kins. It  can  hardly  be  read  without  deep  emo- 
tion. 

"  The  loss  of  a  child  is  always  a  heavy  stroke  ; 
and  no  one  can  feel  it  more  keenly  than  the  mis- 
sionary. Removed  from  father  and  mother,  and 
the  pleasant  associations  of  home  and  country, 
he  cherishes  a  very  peculiar  affection  for  his  wife 
and  children,  which  few  in  other  circumstances 
can  fully  understand.  Our  brother  and  sister 
have  five  times  before  consigned  children  to  the 
tomb.     Their  present  affliction,  how^ever,  comes 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  215 

in  a  new  and  very  aggravated  form.  Their  other 
children  died  in  infancy ;  Judith,  just  as  she  was 
unfolding  in  beauty  and  maturity.  The  others 
died  at  their  own  home,  where  all  was  done  for 
them  which  the  physician's  skill  and  parental 
love  could  suggest.  The  removal  of  Judith 
from  them  was  very  different.  She  was  far  from 
home,  surrounded  by  unfeeling  Mohammedans, 
attacked,  and  in  a  few  hours  borne  down,  by  a 
fearful  disease,  with  no  physician  to  attend  her, 
and  only  the  shelter  of  a  damp,  cold  tent,  to 
shield  her  in  her  dying  moments. 

"  Every  thing  in  the  external  circumstances 
seemed  to  add  intensity  to  the  cup  of  affliction, 
to  press  these  bereaved  parents  to  the  dust. 
And  yet  grace  —  that  wonderful  grace  which 
God  gives  his  children  in  time  of  need  —  has 
carried  them  with  patience  and  resignation 
through  this  trial ;  and  so  far  from  murmuring, 
they  bless  God  for  his  love  to  them,  and  to  their 
beloved  Judith,  when  the  waves  of  sorrow  were 
sweeping  over  them.  Still,  they  cannot  but  feel 
deeply  their  loss.  The  light  of  their  dwelling  has 
been  taken  away ;  and  in  the  twentieth  year  of 
their  missionary  life,  they  are  left  with  only  one 
survivor  from  their  seven  children.  I  need  not 
say,  that  in  these  circumstances,  they  have  our 
tenderest  sympathy  and  most  earnest  prayers." 


216  THE   PERSIAN  FLOWER;    OR 

The  following  note  was  addressed  to  Judith's 
father,  by  Mr.  Stevens,  British  consul  at  Ta- 
breez,  after  reading  a  brief  sketch  giving  account 
of  her  sickness  and  death. 

"  OroomiaJi,  Oct.  2dth,  1852. 
"  Rev.  Dr.  Perkins  : 

"  My  dear  Sir,  —  I  return  to  you  the  memo- 
randum you  were  so  kind  as  to  send  me,  which 
reached  me  after  my  arrival  in  Oroomiah.  I 
have  perused  it  with  a  mixture  of  regret  and  ad- 
miration —  with  regret  for  the  sad  loss  —  the  ir- 
reparable loss  —  you  have  experienced ;  and  with 
admiration  of  the  truly  Christian  resignation, 
with  which  my  dear  departed  friend  submitted 
to  the  will  of  the  Almighty. 

"I  fervently  pray,  that  when  it  may  please 
Him  to  call  me  away  from  this  world,  I  may  be 
prepared  to  obey  the  summons,  with  one  tenth 
part  of  that  quiet  and  religious  submission,  dis- 
played by  poor  Judith,  and  w^hich  it  was  natural 
to  expect,  both  from  her  own  good  qualities,  and 
from  the  exemplary  manner  in  which  she  had 
been  reared  by  her  now  bereaved  parents. 

"  I  beg  you  will  offer  my  respectful  compli- 
ments to  Mrs.  Perkins,  and  that  you  will  believe 
me,  with  my  best  wishes  for  you  both, 
"^  "  Yours  very  sincerely, 

"R.  W.  Stevens." 


JUDITH   G.    PERKINS.  217 

From  Mrs.  A.  E.  Crane,  written  the  day  after 
her  arrival  at  Oroomiah. 

"  Oroomiah,  Thursday  morning,  Oct.  21s/,  1852. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Perkins,  —  After  the  first 
emotions  of  joy,  on  reaching  our  long'  anticipated 
field  and  home,  our  thoughts  and  sympathies  turn 
to  that  dear  brother  and  sister,  who  had  so  kindly 
purposed  to  come  and  accompany  us  hither  from 
Erzroom.  Instead  of  all  the  happiness  we  might 
have  enjoyed,  a  bereavement  so  afflictive  has 
fallen  not  only  on  you,  but  on  tis  all,  that  we 
may  well  mourn  together  the  loss  of  your  be- 
loved Judith.  I  would  endeavor,  my  dear  sister, 
to  speak  words  of  comfort  and  consolation,  but 
cannot  express  my  feelings ;  words  are  too  cold. 
Only  our  Saviour,  who  wept  with  those  that 
weep,  can  bind  up  your  breaking  hearts. 

"  We  have  had  our  feelings  very  tenderly 
called  out,  within  the  last  few  days,  in  passing 
places  associated  with  the  last  hours  of  your 
sainted  daughter.  O  that  the  same  grace,  that 
brightened  and  sustained  her  last  hours,  may 
illumine  those  benighted  villages !  If  her  death 
may  be  the  means  of  quickening  those  of  us  who 
remain,  in  efforts  for  the  good  of  souls,  will  it  not 
be  sanctified?  May  it  not  be  to  the  greater 
glory  of  God  our  Father  ?  Yes ;  while  we 
mourn,  it  is  '  not  as  those  who  have  no  hope.' 


218  THE   PERSIAN  FLOWER;    OR 

'  It  is  the  Lord.  Let  him  do  what  seemeth  him 
good.'  May  the  presence  of  the  Comforter  be 
constantly  with  you,  my  dear  sister.  I  hope  to 
see  you  soon.  With  kindest  regards  to  Mr.  Per- 
kins, and  love  to  little  Henry,  in  which  Mr. 
Crane  unites, 

"  In  haste,  but  very  affectionately  yours, 

"A.  E.   Crane." 

From  Mrs.  S.  A.  Breath,  accompanied  by  the 
beautiful  stanzas  which  follow  the  note. 

"  Oroomiali,  Oct.  15th,  1852. 
"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perkins  : 

"  Dear  Brother  and  Sister,  —  I  need  not  say, 
that  I  deeply  sympathize  with  you  ;  hard  were  the 
heart  that  did  not  feel.  But  sorrow  such  as 
yours  is  a  sacred  thing,  and  an  awe  is  on  my 
spirit.  I  have  felt  that  any  attempt  to  express 
sympathy,  could  but  call  forth  the  touching  plaint, 
*  Is  there  any  sorrow  like  unto  my  sorrow  ?  '  He 
who  kills  and  makes  alive,  alone  can  heal  such 
wounds  as  yours. 

"  The  accompanying  lines  are  intended  only 
for  your  own  perusal.  You  will,  I  know,  over- 
look their  faults,  and  accept  them  as  an  expres- 
sion of  sympathy, 

"  From  your  sister  in  Christ, 

"  S.  A.  Breath." 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  219 


"TO  MR.  AND  MRS.  PERKINS. 

"  As  one  by  one  your  little  band 
Have  hastened  to  the  spirit  land, 
How  oft  have  yon  been  called  to  shed 
A  parent's  tears  o'er  the  early  dead ; 
To  see  the  babe  its  eyelids  close. 
And  fold  its  arms  for  a  long  repose ; 
But  never  have  you  felt  a  blow, 
Like  that  which  laid  your  Judith  low. 

"  Parental  joy  your  hearts  would  wann, 
To  note  the  unfolding  mind  and  form  ; 
To  see  a  daughter's  loving  care, 
Seeking  a  mother's  toils  to  share  ; 
"Watching,  when  ill,  beside  her  bed,  — 
A  star's  mild  light  on  her  pathway  shed,  — 
Your  toils  and  pains  forgot  the  while. 
Blest  with  the  sunlight  of  her  smile. 

"  How  sweet  in  song  her  voice  would  rove  ; 
How  soft  the  strains  her  touch  would  move  ; 
Our  little  circle  gathered  round. 
Dwelt  with  delight  upon  the  sound. 
And  caught  the  soul-inspiring  lay. 
Which  bears  the  thoughts  from  earth  away ; 
Now  the  soft  notes  a  Saviour's  love  repeat  — 
And  now,  triumphant  strains  His  coming  greet. 

"  "NYhen  at  the  placid  hour  of  even, 
Your  cares  are  left,  to  think  on  heaven. 
Do  not  your  spirits  catch  the  strains 
Which  float  along  celestial  plains  ? 
Does  there  not  bend  a  listening  ear. 
Your  absent  loved  one's  voice  to  hear "? 
Her  touch  an  angel's  harp  can  make 
With  melodies  of  heaven  awake. 


220  THE   PERSIAN   FLOWER;    OR 

"  Dark  is  your  path  ;  yet  one  bright  ray, 
Remains  to  cheer  you  on  your  way ; 
Torn  are  your  hearts ;  yet  one  fond  hope 
Is  left  to  bear  your  spirits  up. 
Each  day,  each  moment,  brings  moi'e  near, 
The  time  when  you  with  joy  shall  hear, 
Their  welcome  who  have  gone  before ; 
How  blest  to  meet,  and  part  no  more." 

Second   note  from   Mrs.  Breath,  to   Judith's 
mother,  and  lines  which  accompanied  the  note. 

"Dear  Sister,  —  I  am  alone  with  my  little 
ones.  You  too  are  probably  alone,  but  uncheered 
by  the  smiles  of  infancy.  1  have  been  thinking 
of  you  the  more,  to-day,  from  having  read  in  the 
Journal  of  Missions  the  account  of  the  sickness 
and  death  of  dear  Judith,  with  its  attendant  cir- 
cumstances. As  my  mind  rested  on  the  melan- 
choly theme,  fancying  myself  in  your  place,  my 
thoughts  took  the  turn  which  I  have  expressed 
in  a  few  lines.  However  poor  the  sympathy 
friends  may  offer,  I  know  that  you  will  not  under- 
value it.  You  are  willing  they  should  tell  you 
they  think  of  you  and  feel  for  you. 
"  Yours, 

"  S.  A.  Breath." 


JUDITH   G.   PERKINS.  221 


"TO  MRS.  PERKINS. 

"  I  will  not  weep,  —  though  one  by  one 
My  treasures  from  my  side  have  gone. 
E'er  she  who  was  my  hope,  my  aid. 
Beside  my  youngest  babe  was  laid. 
I  shall  rejoin  them  in  the  sky ; 
Then  why  should  tear-drops  fill  my  eye  ? 

"  I  will  not  weep  —  though  o'er  her  head 
The  sun  its  noon-tide  ray  may  shed, 
And  winter's  fiercest  tempests  rave 
About  my  darling's  lonely  grave. 
^Twill  not  disturb  her  sweet  repose  ; 
And  yet  the  tear  unbidden  flows. 

"  I  will  not  weep  —  my  bleeding  heart, 
Thy  throbbing  cease  !     'Twas  pain  to  part ; 
But,  oh !  'tis  bliss  untold  to  know. 
That  far  beyond  this  world  of  woe, 
I  yet  shall  meet  my  Judith  dear, 
Where  sorrow  never  prompts  a  tear. 

"  I  will  not  weep  —  no  tears  shall  dim 
My  upward  gaze.     My  hope  in  Him, 
Who  triumphed  o'er  the  last  dread  foe, 
Through  His  free  grace,  no  doubts  shall  know. 
In  sorrow's  night,  I'll  wait  the  day. 
And  wipe  the  flowing  tears  away." 

Our  melancholy  but  still  grateful  task,  we 
now  bring  to  a  close.  Our  humble  aim,  which 
was  but  honestly  and  briefly  to  portray  the  lovely 
"  Persian  Flower,"  that  has  faded,  —  nay,  rather 
that  has  been  transplanted  to  the  garden  of  God, 


222  THE    PERSIAN    FLOWER;    OR 

with  such  incidental  references  as  grow  out  of 
the  subject  and  illustrate  it,  is  fulfilled,  —  imper- 
fectly indeed,  yet,  we  trust,  in  a  manner,  that 
may  contribute  to  comfort  the  stricken  mourner, 
(as  the  task  itself  of  preparing  this  brief  record 
has  done,)  and  interest,  and,  with  the  Divine 
blessing,  benefit  the  general  reader. 

Would  we  look  for  human  loveliness  and 
promise?  We  have  here  presented  one  of  the 
brightest  and  fairest  samples.  Would  we  con- 
template mortal  frailty  ?  We  have  here  a  most 
impressive  demonstration,  that  "  the  flower 
fadeth,"  and  that  most  suddenly  and  unexpect- 
edly. Would  we  look  away  from  earth  to 
heaven,  from  the  present  scene  of  change,  dis- 
appointment, and  sorrow,  to  those  everlasting 
mansions  of  unalloyed  joy  and  bliss,  in  reserve 
for  all  who  love  God  ?  How  afFectingly  beauti- 
tiful  and  instructive,  though  so  deeply  afflictive 
to  bereaved  friends,  was  the  calm  and  happy 
passage  of  young  Judith  to  that  world  of  glory, 
rapid  as  was  that  passage,  and  under  the  sudden 
summons  of  one  of  the  most  fearful  of  mortal 
maladies!  Her  remark  to  her  little  brother, 
uttered  less  than  one  week  before  her  death, 
proved  prophetic :  "  Perhaps  I  shall  die  on  this 
journey;  and  how  delightful  it  will  be  to  go  up 
to  that  heaven,  and  see  God  who  never  dies  !  " 

May  the  reader,  like  her,  seek  and  obtain  a 


JUDITH   G.  PERKINS.  223 

place  in  that  "  house  not  made  with  hands,  eter- 
nal in  the  heavens ;  "  where  "  there  shall  be  no 
more  death ;  neither  sorrow ;  neither  crying ; 
neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain." 

Just  as  we  were  penning  the  above  last  lines, 
a  package  of  seven  volumes  of  the  published 
works  of  Dr.  Geo.  W.  Bethune  reached  Judith's 
father,  sent  to  him  as  a  token  of  fraternal  re- 
membrance from  that  kind  friend.  In  turning 
over  the  volume  of  his  sweet  "  Lays  of  Love  and 
Faith,"  the  charming  piece,  "  Early  lost.  Early 
saved,"  was  one  of  the  first  to  which  we  opened  ; 
and  it  struck  us  as  so  descriptive  of  the  life  and 
character  of  Judith,  that  we  could  not  forbear  to 
introduce  it,  as  a  most  appropriate  close  of  her 
memoir. 

EARLY   LOST,   EARLY    SAVED. 

By  Db.  Geo.  W.  Bethuxe. 

"Within  her  downy  cradle,  there  lay  a  little  child, 

And  a  group  of  hovering  angels  unseen  upon  her  smiled  ; 

When  a  strife  rose  among  them,  a  loving,  holy  strife, 

Which  should  shed  the  richest  blessing  over  the  new-bom  life. 

One  breathed  upon  her  features,  and  the  babe  in  beauty  grew, 
With  a  cheek  like  morning's  blushes,  and  an  eye  of  azure  hue  ; 
Till  every  one  who  saw  her,  were  thankful  for  the  sight 
Of  a  face  so  sweet  and  radiant,  with  ever  fresh  delight. 

Another  gave  her  accents,  and  a  voice  as  musical 

As  a  spring-bird's  joyous  carol,  or  a  rippling  streamet's  fall ; 


224  THE  PERSIAN   FLOWER. 

Till  all  who  heard  her  laughing,  or  her  words  of  childish  grace, 
Loved  as  much  to  listen  to  her,  as  to  look  upon  her  face. 

Another  brought  from  heaven  a  clear  and  gentle  mind, 
And  within  the  lovely  casket  the  precious  gem  enshrined ; 
Till  all  who  knew  her,  wondered,  that  God  should  be  so  good, 
As  to  bless,  with  such  a  spirit,  a  world  so  cold  and  rude. 

Thus  did  she  grow  in  beauty,  in  melody,  and  truth, 
The  budding  of  her  childhood  just  opening  into  youth  ; 
And  to  our  hearts  yet  dearer,  eveiy  moment  than  before. 
She  became,  though  Ave  thought  fondly,  heart  could  not  love 
her  more. 

Then  spake  out  another  angel,  nobler,  brighter  than  the  rest. 
As  with  strong  arm,  but  tender,  he  caught  her  to  his  breast : 
"  Ye  have  made  her  all  too  lovely  for  a  child  of  mortal  race, 
But  no  shade  of  human  sorrow  shall  darken  o'er  her  face ; 

"  Ye  have  tuned  to  gladness  only  the  accents  of  her  tongue, 
And  no  wail  of  human  anguish  shall  from  her  lips  be  wning ; 
Nor  shall  the  soul  that  shineth  so  purely  from  within 
Her  form  of  earth-born  frailty,  ever  know  a  sense  of  sin. 

"Lulled  in  my  faithful  bosom,  I  will  bear  her  far  away, 
Where  there  is  no  sin,  nor  anguish,  nor  sorroAv,  nor  decay ; 
And  mine  a  boon  more  glorious  than  all  your  gifts  shall  be  — 
Lo  !  I  crown  her  happy  spirit  with  immortality  !  " 

Then  on  his  heart  our  darling  yielded  up  her  gentle  breath. 
For  the  stronger,  brighter  angel,  who  loTcd   her  best,  was 
Death. 


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